No Good Deed: Outrunning Shadows Book 2

Outrunning Shadows Book 2:
No Good Deed


A Novel by: Allen Mitchell



         
         
          Chapter 1
         
         
                    Andrew Garrison stood in the kitchen stirring a pot of vegetable soup for dinner that evening. It was a typical Friday gathering at his house. After moving to Deerfield, South Carolina for a job, he had settled in well. Other than getting shot by his new boyfriend's jilted ex, things were going well.
                    He had spent most of his life either on missionary compounds or military bases. His only taste of ordinary life was being a college student. Then, after finishing his degree at 27, he found himself as an investment advisor at a small advisory firm called McWilliams Investments.
                    The aroma of the soup tantalized him as he gazed out on the bright, autumnal maple tree in his neighbor, Engrid's front yard which was visible from his kitchen window. It was well into October and the fall foliage had finally made it all the way down south. It began in northern New England in September and then day by day made its way down the Appalachian Mountain range through the Virginias and into the Carolinas.
                    Being evergreens, the endless pine forests of South Carolina took away a lot of the color that normally would be associated with autumn, but Maple Avenue got its name from the rows of maple trees that lined the streets. They burned with brilliant orange and yellow leaves. The town also boasted hundreds of oaks, sycamores and other trees that glow fluorescent colors come October.
                    Andrew heard the front door open.
                    "Evan?" He called out.
                    "C'est moi." Evan replied, hip checking the front door closed, a paper bag of groceries cradled in the crook of each elbow, "I'm back with the groceries you wanted."
                    Andrew turned, a soup stirring spoon held in midair. Evan was just as radiant as the day he fell in love. His muscular, strong frame was balanced by his sensitive and caring nature. Andrew was still awestruck that he and Evan had fallen so much in love. Even more astonishing was how their love and relationship had been accepted locally so far. Neither imagined that a little town in the middle of the south would be so open-minded about such a thing. Apparently, southern hospitality and a live and let live attitude mixed well.
                    The secret leaked out because Andrew took a dare from a few coworkers. He regretted it at first, but it lit up the gossip grapevine so efficiently that it saved him months of agonizing and "coming out." They were surprised and relieved. Andrew feared the rest of the townsfolk would show up on their doorstep with torches and pitchforks, but nothing of the sort had happened. They even attended the fall festival together last weekend and no one said anything and no one even gave them strange looks. As Andrew quickly came to realize, this was not the south of the nightly news or the ballot box.
                    Dora and Engrid helped with their acceptance. They were Andrew and Evan's neighbors who had helped them out of tremendous jams and were as closely bonded as any family. They were both respected elders in the town, so their acceptance helped the rest of the town stay at ease too. If Dora and Engrid said it was alright, then it must be fine.
                    The four of them live in three large, rambling two story houses in a row on Maple Ave, in the little town of Deerfield. The other house past Engrid's was Myrtle's. She was Evan's mother and Evan had grown up there. Their homes were quite old- having been built in the late 18 to early 1900's which suited the neighborhood. Many of the people in those big, old homes seemed to be as old as the structures themselves. Except of course for Andrew and Evan, two gay men in their late 20's who happened to fall in love in such an unlikely place.
                    Their home was once that of Rose, an elderly widow who died suddenly shortly before Andrew moved in. From the age of 15, Andrew had lived with his uncle in the military and had traveled all over the world, all the while dreaming of a quiet life of familiarity and security. Up until 15 years old, Andrew lived with his parents and two brothers on a missionary compound in the jungles outside of Manaus, Brazil. Evan had been raised as Engrid's neighbor by his widowed mother, Myrtle. He had lived in New York City for seven years before returning to Deerfield.
                    Evan and Andrew's house was a very light, almost faded yellow and had a very similar shape to Engrid's and Dora's, broad front porch, two stories with fieldstone steps that opened down to a gravel pathway that led to the driveway. Engrid's house was the same except blue with white storm doors.
                    Andrew caught sight of Engrid walking towards the house carrying a large serving tray filled with squares of cornbread to go with the soup he was making. The recipe came from one of Engrid's oldest cookbooks that dated back to the late 1800's. It had been her great-grandmother's. She had penciled in alternative cooking instructions because the book was written for using a wood stove. No one had used wood cook stoves in ages, so she updated it for cooking with gas or electricity.
                    Evan answered the door for her and she stepped over the threshold.
                    She looked at him and scrunched her forehead, "Evan, I've got a question for you."
                    They walked side by side towards the kitchen, the aroma of the soup and cornbread permeating the air. "What's that?" Evan asked, offering to carry the tray for her.
                    She surrendered the tray of cornbread and dusted her hands off, even though there was not a crumb on them. It was just a habit.
                    "Well," she followed Evan into the kitchen.
                    Like all their houses, there was a rarely used formal dining room. Those were for special occasions, not everyday use. Andrew followed the same pattern, so even when he had guests, unless it was a reverend, the mayor, or Thanksgiving Day, they ate at the kitchen table.
                    She adjusted her brown sweater with pumpkins embroidered on it, "I saw a car parked out front of your mother's house yesterday. It's the same car that I've seen several times since the Fall Festival last weekend."
                    Evan arched an eyebrow, "Okay. What's wrong with that?"
                    "Nothing in particular, I suppose." Engrid said as she pulled a chair away from the table and sat down, "Well, you don't think that maybe...she's...I don't know."
                    "Do you think Evan's mom has a boyfriend?" Andrew asked, turning his attention from the beef and vegetable soup in the large pot.
                    Engrid feigned surprised, as if she hadn't been thinking the same thing the whole time. A slight upward curl at the edges of her mouth gave her away.
                    "Well, I don't know. It's not for me to say. He was quite young. I mean, Myrtle's not that old, but he was...well not much older than you two."
                    "She was with us at the festival. I don't remember her talking to anyone out of the ordinary. You don't recognize the car?" Evan asked.
                   "No. I've tried, and I've tried, and I just can't place it. It was a cute little green car. I think I would have recognized it if it were from around here." She got up from the table and poured herself a glass of tea from the refrigerator and sat back down.
                    Andrew returned his attention back to the soup pot, but kept talking, "What if she is? I think that's great. It's important to have someone special in your life."
                    "Great?" Engrid seemed shocked. "She hasn't been seeing anyone since Evan's father died, Lord rest his soul. And this guy, like I said, he's not much older than you and Evan."
                    "Well, her husband passed away, she's got her life still to live. I don't see anything wrong with Myrtle dating again." Andrew said, "Besides, I think 23 years is a sufficient mourning period."
                    Engrid sat stunned and flustered.
                    "Maybe you should get a man too." Andrew's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shot her a glance over his shoulder.
                    "Me? Oh no, that's completely out of the question." She waved her hands back and forth. "Absolutely not," she reiterated.
                    "It's the in thing right now. I've even got one. A nice young one!" Evan teased.
                    Engrid couldn't help but crack a smile. "Maybe. I could put out one of those personal ad things. But I...I wouldn't know what to say." She grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table and wiped the tea from her mouth and hid a slowly unfolding smile.
                    "What do you think, Evan?" Andrew turned to him.
                    Evan opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before speaking, "It seems weird, my mom dating someone. I don't know."
                    "I guess it would be." Andrew said, "But I meant Engrid putting up a dating profile."
                    "Yeah, maybe. I don't even like to think of my parents as being intimate with each other, let alone with a total stranger." Evan commented. He couldn't push past the topic.
                    "Well, I'm sure it's just a phase. I guess even your mom has needs." Engrid stated matter-of-factly. Both guys' heads swung in her direction. Noting the shocked gazes. she continued, "Well, it's true. Women do have those things you know. It's not just men."
                    "And not just hot flashes." Evan said.
                    "Oh goodness, the last time I had a hot flash, the Dodge Dynasty was a concept car."
                    Andrew wasn't going to let it go. He was having fun watching Engrid squirm.
                    Andrew said, "Hmm. I guess more mature women, like yourself, might also desire the, shall we say, company of others."
                    "No, no. I'm from a generation before that. In our generation, once your husband died, that was it. The...well.... the.... sexual....part of your life was over."
                    "Really? People didn't remarry back then?"
                    "Oh, heavens no! Well, I suppose people in Hollywood might, but around here they didn't. Marriage was a once in a lifetime thing."
                    "I guess people around here might still think that way." Evan said.
                    They fell silent for a few moments.
                    "So," Andrew said, "I'm still curious about what Myrtle has been up to."
                    "So am I!" Engrid said, sitting up in her chair, excited about returning to her preferred topic.
                    They had a lovely dinner and chatted aimlessly for a while longer before Engrid went home. As she was walking back to her house, she noticed the man's car was still at Myrtle's house. But, better yet, they were standing on the front porch talking. They embraced, and the man gave her a peck on the cheek. Of course, that sent Engrid's mind into high gear. She hurried along as the man walked down the steps and onto the concrete path that headed to the curb where his car was parked. Engrid walked quickly, watching Myrtle turn and go back in the house. The man was almost to his car door when she called out to him.
                    "Yoo-hoo!" Engrid waved to him.
                    The man turned and saw her and tried to cover his surprise at being caught. She was too close for him to make a run for it without it seeming rude. He would have to face her now. He smiled broadly at her.
                    "How do you do? I'm Engrid Matthews."
                    "How nice to meet you, Ms. Matthews, but I really have to go."
                    "Before you go, I've seen you in the neighborhood a few times and I thought we should get to know each other better. I'm having some friends over for dinner tomorrow night, please join us. We'll be eating at around 6:30. Okay?"
                    "Well, I really shouldn't. Thank you for the invitation, though. That was very nice of you to think of me."
                    "It's no trouble at all. Are you new around here?"
                    "I actually don't live around here. I live in Columbia. I was just visiting a friend."
                    "I saw. You were visiting Myrtle."
                    "Yes. Lovely woman, well, I must be going." The man said hurriedly.
                    "I live next door in that light blue house with white storm shutters." She said, pointing.
                    "I'm afraid I won't be able to make it. I have plans tomorrow night."
                    Not wanting to push her luck much further, she acquiesced, "Some other time then."
                    "Perhaps." He turned and quickly got in his car and sped off down the street. Engrid glanced up at Myrtle's house and saw her frightened face peeking out between the curtains. As soon as she saw Engrid looking, she ducked back into the shadows. Engrid walked back to Andrew's house and poked her head in the door, "Andrew? Evan? Are you here?"
                    "Yes ma'am, we're in the living room."
                    Evan and Andrew were on the couch next to each other thumbing through TV streaming services to see what was on.
                    She walked into the room. "You won't believe who I just talked to!"
                    "Who?" Evan asked, "You were gone for all of two minutes."
                    "That guy. The one Myrtle's seeing." Engrid sat down in an armchair facing the sofa Evan and Andrew were sitting next to each other on.
                    "Really?" Andrew perked up, "What did you think?"
                    Andrew tossed the remote control onto the end table.
                    "He's up to something. He's hiding something."
                    "What makes you say that?"
                    "He was about to jump out of his skin. It was like he was scared to death to talk to me."
                    "So? He just didn't want to be seen." Andrew said, "Maybe he doesn't know how people will react. I sure know the feeling."
                    "Maybe. Maybe I just surprised him and that put him on edge. But something about him just didn't sit right. I invited him to dinner at my house tomorrow night and he flat turned me down. He didn't even do the 'some other time' routine. He said 'perhaps' what kind of a put off is that?"
                    "I don't see the problem. Maybe Mom just didn't want him to talk to the neighbors yet. Maybe she's not ready to introduce us."
                    "I don't know. Maybe I should talk to her about it," Engrid shook her head slowly with disbelief, as if she'd just learned Myrtle had just been diagnosed with dementia.
                    "I think you should leave her alone, Engrid." Evan leveled his eyes at her, "She'll tell us when she's ready. Until then, I'd rather not think about my mother having a boyfriend."
                    "Okay. I'll stay out of it." She got up, "Well, I'd best be going."
                    They bid one another adieu and she left. Yeah right if she was going to stay out of it. As she was walking back home, she saw Dora's Explorer crest the hill and begin its deceleration towards her own driveway. Engrid flagged her down. Dora pulled up to the curb and stopped.
                    "What's the matter?" Dora asked.
                    "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that I talked to the man Myrtle's been seeing."
                    "Who?"
                    "That guy that Myrtle has been seeing since the Fall Festival."
                    "Oh really. What did you think?"
                    "That man is one odd duck. I'm not sure I like him. In fact, I know I don't." Engrid confirmed.
                    "Why?"
                    "He seemed jumpy. Something wasn't right."
                    "Maybe you just scared him. You tend to be a bit much upon first meeting you. No offense, just a friendly observation." Dora said.
                    "I know. Andrew thought I was a crazy old coot at first too."
                    "I'm not sure his opinion has changed." Dora said, then cracked a smile.
                    Engrid pursed her lips, "Okay. I'm going home. I'm tired."
                    "Okay. See you tomorrow."
                    Dora released the brake and coasted down to her own driveway.
                    Engrid walked slowly back to her house. The only option was to follow the man the next time he left. If his story didn't add up, she'd have to intervene to find out the truth before Myrtle got hurt.
         
         
          Chapter 2
         
         
                    The next day was Saturday. It was a beautiful sunny day as Engrid tinkered in her front yard. She had her purse sitting on the front seat of her car and the keys nestled in her apron pocket in case she needed to leave on a moment's notice. The mysterious stranger had been parked outside Myrtle's house for several hours.
                    Engrid had been raking around the same maple tree for about 45 minutes- just slowly scraping unseen scraps of dried leaves and mown grass into a little pile. She didn't hear the approaching footsteps.
                    "Engrid?"
                    She jumped and let out a little yelp as she turned to face the guy. It was Andrew.
                    "Goodness, Andrew, you scared me half to death!"
                    "Sorry. I just noticed you've been out here for a long time. Do you need any help?"
                    "Oh, no, no. Thanks for asking. I'm just piddling around out here." She smiled, "Not much going on these days."
                    Andrew glanced up the street.
                    "You wouldn't be doing a little reconnaissance would you?"
                    "What?"
                    He smiled, "You know what I mean."
                    "Oh, no, no. Nothing like that. Don't worry about me. I'm just doing a little yard work on Saturday afternoon. There's nothing suspicious about that, you know...getting a little exercise."
                    "Nothing at all. But I couldn't help but notice that you've been vigilantly watching that car ever since you got out here."
                    "You did?"
                    "Yes. You're not the only observant one on this block." He smiled back at her, knowingly.
                    "What does it matter if I was watching the car? You know I'm part of the neighborhood watch, that's what we do. We watch out for odd things in the neighborhood."
                    "Uh-huh."
                    "Oh, don't you start that."
                    "What?"
                    "Evan does that same 'uh-huh' routine when he doesn't believe me. He's rubbing off on you already."
                    "Am I wrong to think that you're up to more than just being a friendly neighborhood watchdog?"
                    Engrid sighed. "I wanted to get another look at the guy. But he's been in there for ages and frankly I'm getting tired and bored, but I refuse to give up."
                    "Maybe they don't want you to see him, so they're waiting for you to go inside so he can leave."
                    Engrid just stared at him for a moment with disbelief at the revelation, "You know- you might be right. They've probably been watching me this whole time, knowing exactly what I was doing. I'm such a ninnyhammer. If you noticed, I'm sure Myrtle knew instantly. What should I do?"
                    "A 'ninny' what?" Andrew asked. Despite being a native Portuguese speaker, his English was impeccable, though occasionally odd turns of phrase caught him off guard.
                    "Nevermind," she waved him off.
                    "You could go back inside and leave the poor man alone. Or...hold on...keep looking at me."
                    "Why?"
                    "Because I've got you distracted, he's on the move. He's headed down the steps now. Do not turn around. When I tell you to, go after him."
                    "Okay. I have my keys with me and my purse is on the front seat of my car. You're too nosy for your own good, Mr. Garrison. But then people have been telling me that about myself all my life."
                    "Okay. He's unlocking his door, we'd better hurry. But don't look up. Don't make it look like you've noticed. You've got to be subtle. If he thinks he's been caught, he may try to lose you before going home."
                    "Okay."
                    "Nonchalantly, we'll walk towards your car. I'll go with you. If anything happens, I'll be there to back you up."
                    Engrid wasn't sure she'd need 'backup' but agreed anyway, "Okay."
                    Engrid and Andrew walked as quickly as they could while appearing casual and disinterested in the goings on further up the street.
                    "If you don't mind, I'll drive." Andrew said.
                    "That's a good idea. You can go faster and react faster than I can. I'm an old woman, after all."
                    "Apparently, you're also a ninnyhammer, whatever that is. Anyway, keep talking to me, don't look in his direction. He's fastening his seatbelt, so we'd better hurry."
                    Engrid got in on the passenger's side of her silver Town Car. Once inside the car, she and Andrew made haste to prepare for take-off as quickly as possible. The engine started, seatbelts fastened, they backed the Silver Bullet out of her driveway just as the stranger's car pulled away from the curb.
                    They drove slowly up the street after him. Andrew smiled and waved politely to Myrtle who watched from the safety of her living room window. Engrid fished around in the glove box and pulled out a glasses case. She switched out her regular glasses with the sepia tinted prescription sunglasses.
                    Once having crested the hill and out of Myrtle's line of sight, they picked up speed.
                    "Engrid, you might want to get in the backseat."
                    "Why?"
                   "You talked to him yesterday, so he knows your face. If he sees you, he's more likely to realize that he's being followed."
                    "Then he'll try to lose us."
                    "He'll need a lot of luck."
                    "What does that mean?"
                    Andrew reached into his right pants pocket and pulled out a little yellow plastic thing with a small LED screen.
                    "What's that?" Engrid cocked her head to one side. Her curiosity was piqued.
                    "A GPS receiver."
                    She just looked confused. "It stands for Global Positioning..."
                    "I know what GPS stands for, but what are you doing?" She asked.
                    "This morning, before you got out into your yard, I walked by his car. I have a little device planted on the frame of his car that will transmit a signal via satellite to this little gadget right here. With this, we can pinpoint his exact location within 4 feet."
                    "My goodness. Where did you get that thing?"
                    Andrew smiled. "It's for bicycle insurance. You put it inside the frame so if it gets stolen, it can be found. Works on cars and people too."
                    "Why didn't you become a spy?" Engrid asked.
                    "I always dreamed of having a little house in a small town. I was probably the only kid in the world who dreamed of a boring life."
                    "It's not that boring." Engrid observed.
                    "No, I didn't mean it in a bad way. You do have to make your own fun around here."
                    "Like following a total stranger to see where he goes."
                    Andrew nodded, "That would be a good example. As long as he doesn't realize he's being followed, it shouldn't be too hard."
                    Engrid rested her elbows on the back of the passenger's seat, marveling at the latest unraveling of the secret history of Andrew Garrison.
                    The car they were following was a little green sports car of some kind. Engrid didn't recognize it as anything someone from Deerfield would drive. Kia was considered an exotic car in Deerfield. Around there, most people drove either a Ford or a General Motors vehicle with the occasional Chrysler. In their foursome, Andrew was the only one who drove a foreign car, a Nissan. She drove a Lincoln, Dora drove a Ford, and Evan drove a Jeep.
                    Andrew knew it was an Alfa Romeo. It was not a cheap car, but not overly extravagant either. It was around a 1963 Alfa Romeo Spider. Andrew guessed, since it was in pretty good condition, it would be worth about $40,000 dollars.
                    The little Italian roadster took the curves of the road to Columbia with ease. Engrid's Lincoln Town Car was an incredibly comfortable sofa on wheels, not a European sports car. If the mysterious stranger knew they were following him, he could easily outrun or outmaneuver them. But Andrew had been keeping his distance. If he'd planned ahead, he would have driven his Pathfinder, because the man would be less likely to realize he'd seen it somewhere before. Engrid's Town Car was old enough not to stand out as a fancy car.
                    They rode along in silence as the tall, lanky pine trees sped by. It was getting to be about mid-afternoon, so Andrew pulled out his cell phone.
                    "Hello, Evan? Yes, I'm with Engrid, she wanted me to go with her to Columbia to do some shopping, so I'll be home around 7:00 tonight. Okay? I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry. You're welcome." He ended the call.
                    "That was a good idea."
                    "I wouldn't want Evan to call the police to report me missing."
                    "No, the three of us haven't had good luck with having the police called on us." Engrid smiled, remembering the time that she set up Andrew and Evan to meet, but it ended with Evan in jail and seething at them both.
                    Approaching from the southwest, they reached the outskirts of Columbia along Hwy 21. After a series of turns, the Alfa Romeo turned into the Flowers Crossing subdivision. It was a very, very nice subdivision. Andrew guessed the houses were somewhere in the $750,000 range. But other than their size and grandeur, they were cookie cutter houses.
                    All the houses in the subdivision were one of about 5 different designs and all various shades of the same neutral colors. Each lawn was a manicured replica of all the other lawns. The Alfa Romeo belonged to a particularly nice lawn at the far end of a cul-de-sac. Andrew was moving slowly enough that he was able to pull to the curb far enough away so as not to be spotted. The little Italian car approached, and the man guided it skillfully into the garage.
                    As the garage door slid shut, Andrew released the brake and the large Town Car eased closer to the house. They circled the cul-de-sac and proceeded back up the hill from whence they'd come. Engrid crouched low in the back seat, her eyes fixed on the beautiful yet unimaginative house.
                    They went around a curve and parked in front of the community pool.
                    "Let's go for a walk."
                    "Won't we be spotted?"
                    "I hope not. I wish you had that big floppy sun hat that you wear for gardening. It would help you not to be recognized."
                    "It's right here." She rambled around on the floorboard of the backseat. "I brought it so I could wear it while driving. It would make it harder for him to make out my face."
                    "Engrid, you should have been a spy."
                    She smiled at the compliment. "I try to think of everything"
                    She got out of the car and fitted the large hat snugly to her head. "Is this okay?"
                    "Perfect. The sunglasses make it even more believable. If anyone asks, we're visiting Annette and Jacob Smith. They live over there."
                    He pointed. "I'm her brother and you're our grandmother."
                    "How do you know who lives in that house?"          
                    "I don't- just point a good distance away. They won't know who their neighbors are either. They probably know the people a few doors down on each side, but that's it. They have no clue who lives on the other side of the neighborhood. We're out for a walk on this beautiful fall afternoon. We're relatives of the wife so that the neighbors won't assume our last names."
                    With the instructions complete, the dynamic duo headed off down the street. As they walked along, it was a typical day in a quiet, suburban neighborhood. There were a few children playing in yards, overseen by watchful mothers leaning on strollers containing the younger siblings of the kids who were playing. There was one birthday party in progress in a backyard; the out-of-tune words of Happy Birthday wafted through the air.
                    Engrid could see the house in question up ahead. She hoped and prayed that the man didn't emerge. If you passed by someone, you were honor-bound by Southern custom to greet them. If someone was standing there, you had to wave, or say 'hello' or in some way acknowledge them. It was considered memorably rude not to do so. They approached the cul-de-sac.
                    Andrew wished it wasn't quite so sunny. Covert operations were usually nighttime affairs. This was broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon. However, they weren't going to confront the man, and in fact were hoping that they did not encounter him at all.
                    "You don't think he's married, do you?" Engrid whispered.
                    "I was wondering the same thing. That's an awfully big house for a single guy."
                    "That thing's a mansion. How much do you suppose it costs?"
                    "Around $750,000 to a million."
                    "My God. Why so much?"
                    "It's just how much houses that size and in this type of neighborhood cost."
                    "That's outrageous!"
                    "Yes, it is. I prefer our neighborhood."
                    "Oh, me too! Hands down, no contest," Engrid scowled at the absurd expense.
                    They started slowing their pace as they closed in on their prey. They rounded the cul-de-sac but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
                    As they approached the driveway entrance, Andrew said, "Keep walking, I'll catch up."
                    "What?"
                    "Just keep walking." He veered from their path and went up the walkway. He went up onto the porch, where there was the corner of a white envelope sticking out of the mail slot. When the letter carrier slid them in, this one caught in the crux of the metal flap and just hung there. He slowly slid it out to create as little noise as possible. He glanced at it and then hurried down the porch and rejoined Engrid who was passing the house next door.
                    "Did you steal that?"
                    "It's just junk mail, he'll never miss it."
                    "That's illegal!"
                    "I won't tell if you won't."          
                    "So, what's his name?"
                    Andrew just looked at the envelope and said nothing. The suspense for Engrid was building. "What's the name?" she insisted.
                    "Maybe this is a prior resident or something," Andrew cleared his throat and looked around.
                    "What's wrong?"
                    She snatched the envelope from his hand and examined it herself. She gasped. The name in black ink on white paper was, 'Amanda Riverside.'
                    She slapped the envelope against Andrew's chest. "Who is Amanda Riverside?"
                    He shrugged, "I don't know."
                    "Why that cheating old..." she started to turn around to face the house, but Andrew put his hand on her shoulder and steered her back towards the car.
                    "We don't know that."
                    "Who else could it be?"
                    "Anybody. Amanda Riverside could be a daughter, sister, elderly mother, spinster aunt, former resident, boarder, stolen identity, who knows what else. It could be his wife, but we do not know that," he said, over-emphasizing the last five words, "I don't want to jump to any mistaken conclusions here. We're on thin ice as it is."
                    "We also don't want Myrtle to get hurt by running around with a married man."
                    "No, I don't want that either."
                    The duo walked quickly up the sidewalk away from the home of Amanda Riverside and whoever the man was.
         
         
         
         
          Chapter 3
         
         
                    Meanwhile, Evan was home making himself a sandwich. He thought nothing more of the call from Andrew than a courtesy not to wait for him to get home. He heard the chimes of the doorbell. Upon answering the door, he discovered that it was his own mother.
                    "Hi Mom!" He said cheerily.
                    "Hello, Evan. Can I come in?"
                    "Sure. I was just making a sandwich; do you want one?"
                    "That would be nice, thank you!"
                    They went into the kitchen and Myrtle sat down at the table while Evan finished up the sandwiches.
                    "So, what's up?" he asked, fishing the last of the mayonnaise out of the jar.
                    "I've got some news."
                    "Really? What's that?" Evan tried to appear nonchalant.
                    "I'm seeing someone."
                    "That's cool. Who is he?"
                    "His name is Dylan Riverside."
                    "Does he live around here?"
                    "No, he lives in Columbia. I've never been to his house, but I'm sure it's nice."
                    "Okay. So, I guess he's nice? I guess, since you like him and all." Evan shifted his weight slightly. He wasn't comfortable hearing about his mother's romantic interests.
                    "Yes. He is. He's been very nice to me."
                    "How long have you known each other?"
                    "Only a few weeks. I met him at a meeting."
                    "What meeting?"          
                    "I go to meetings, Evan."
                    He smirked, "Did you meet him online?"
                    "No, of course not!" She sounded incensed and shocked at the notion.
                    "A personal ad in the paper?"
                    "No. I met him in person. He introduced himself to me at a meeting in Columbia."
                    "Don't make me drag it out of you, Mom, what meeting did you go to in Columbia?"
                    "It's this very nice organization that I did find online. I decided I should go, so I did. I went to a few meetings before I met Dylan."
                    Evan sat quietly, eyeing her because he knew she was avoiding the 'what meeting' question. He wasn't sure why she was being so evasive.
                    "Okay, okay. I got this pamphlet for you." She slid a slightly crumpled pamphlet out of her pocket and handed it over. He took it and examined it. Emblazoned across the cover were the words, "Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays."
                    "So, you went to a PFLAG meeting?"
                    "Yes."
                    "And that's where you met Dylan Riverside?"
                    "Yes."
                    Evan nodded approvingly, impressed.
                    "So, you're getting serious about him?"
                    "Yes. I think so. I don't know. I haven't really dated much in the last couple of decades."
                    "Well, I think it's nice that you're getting out and meeting new people."
                    "Really? I'm glad you think so."
                    Evan smiled and took the first bite out of his sandwich.
                    After swallowing, "I'm sure Andrew and Engrid will be excited when they get back."
                    "Where did they go?"
                    "They went on a last-minute shopping trip to Columbia this afternoon."
                    "Surely they didn't." Myrtle was aghast.
                    "Andrew called me from his cell and I could hear road noise, so I'm sure that that's where they went."          
                    "That's not that I'm saying."
                    "What are you saying?"
                    "They drove out right behind Dylan. You don't think they followed him, do you?"
                    "I don't think Andrew would do something like that. If Engrid was by herself, I'd almost guarantee it, but if Andrew was with her, he'd put his foot down."
                    "Good. I would hate for them to bother Dylan. He's such a sweet guy."
                    "Does he have any children?"
                    "Yes. He has a fifteen-year-old daughter."
                    "Okay. How old is he?"
                    Myrtle just smiled.
                    "Mom...how old is he?" Evan prodded.
                    "35."
                    "35!"
                    "Is there a problem?"
                    "You were 26 years old when he was born!"
                    "I was 32 when you were born, what's your point?" She crossed her arms.
                    "But he's so much younger than you."
                    "I know." She smirked. She knew the age thing would get his goat and it did, "But I don't want you to tell Engrid or Andrew about this."
                    "They may already know."          
                    "I was afraid of that. They were following him this afternoon, weren't they?"
                    "I don't know, but they might have been. Why don't you want me to tell them?"
                    "I want to tell them. I want to have everyone over to my house this weekend for dinner on Saturday. Don't make any plans."
                    "I'm still not sure I like the idea of you dating a younger man." Evan cast his eyes down to the half-eaten sandwich.
                    Myrtle said patiently, "Now Evan, if I can get over the idea of you dating a man of any age, the least you can do is show me the same courtesy."
                    "Okay," he smiled and nodded, "You make a good point. I will. I'm glad you seem to be happy."
                    "I am. I was very lonely when you moved in here with Andrew. I guess with you home, I didn't notice that I was alone. Then when you found somebody, it made me realize that other than you and the store, I don't really have anything."
                    "How are things going at the store?"
                    "They're fine. How's your new job?"
                    "I like it. I never thought of teaching as a profession, but it's good."
                    "Well, teaching is a nice, stable job. And you'll have a good retirement package in a few years."
                    "A few years? Try 30 years."
                    "Hey, it goes faster than you think."
                    "I'm sure it does. The first 30 years went by pretty fast."
                    "The second thirty goes even faster. And according to Dora, the third thirty goes even faster! But I don't know if I'll make it that far."
                    "You never know."
                    "No, I don't. You'll probably make it, though- with Andrew and his healthy Latin American cooking. He'll clean out your arteries pretty well."
                    "He tries."
                    "Evan, you know...Andrew is a good man. I know I didn't have the best reaction when this all started, and I apologize."
                    "Mom, you don't have to."
                    "I know, but I want to. I learned a lot at those meetings. When I went, I was a nervous wreck. You know, I asked Dora to go with me."
                    "You did?"
                    "Yes. Dora went with me for the first several meetings. Then once I got comfortable going, she let me go alone. But when I first walked in, I was shocked. I don't know what I expected, really. I guess I was expecting people like you see on TV. I guess I expected lots of effeminate men and very manly women. But that's not what I found. It's true that there were people like that, but there were others too. I walked in, and I realized that most of the people were just like me. They have jobs and homes and families and they're nice, down-to-earth, decent people. There were young people, old people, wealthy people, and not-so-wealthy people. I'm kind of ashamed now that I reacted as poorly as I did."
                    "It's okay. I realize it takes some getting used to. It took me years of trial and error to realize what you did in a few PFLAG meetings. I'm actually impressed with you."
                    "Thank you. That really means a lot." Myrtle smiled and blushed slightly at the compliment.
                    "So, Saturday night, we all get to meet your mystery man?"
                    "Yes. Saturday night. I'll officially make the plans on Thursday."
                    "That sounds good. Does Dora know about Dylan?"
                    "No. I didn't meet him until after she stopped going with me."
                    "So, I can't talk to Andrew about this?"
                    "Okay. You can tell Andrew because I know you will anyway but give me your word you won't tell Engrid. And if she asks, try to throw her off the scent."
                    Evan smiled mischievously, "I will, Mom. Engrid won't get a word out of me and I'll vouch for Andrew."
                    "Those two seem to be getting buddy-buddy lately." Myrtle said.
                    "I'm glad. They're both such special people. I like them both...in different ways of course."
                    Myrtle smiled. "I love you, Evan. I know it may not have seemed like it for a while, but I really do."
                    "I know, Mom. It's been tough on all of us, but it's all working out very well."
                    "Yes, it is."
                    "I wonder what the future holds for all of us."
                    "Me too. You've got someone to spend your life with and I may have one to grow old with. Dora and Engrid are going to be closing out their lives in a few years and it'll be just the four of us and whoever moves into their houses after they've vacated the planet."
                    "That's a morbid thought."
                    "I know. But Engrid turned 89 on her birthday and Dora will be 90 next month."
                    "So. These days a lot of people are passing the century mark."
                    "If anyone I know will pull it off, it'll be those two."
                    "I hope so. I would miss them. They've seen us both through some pretty tough times."
                    "I know. I don't know what I would have done without them after your father died. There I was with a business to run, a small child to raise, and no husband. Being a wife and mother is all I'd ever done. It's all that my mother and grandmothers ever did. I had no idea how to run a business- but Dora helped me out with the business and Engrid took care of you during the day. I honestly have no idea what would have happened to us if it weren't for them."
                    "Engrid taught me to read."
                    "And look at you now, passing the love of reading on to countless people. Not to mention you used to work as a book publisher- in New York City no less!"
                    Myrtle beamed at what a remarkable human her son had turned out to be.
                    The mother and son sat chatting in his kitchen eating their sandwiches.
                   
         
         
          Chapter 4
                    Andrew pulled into the mall parking lot.
                    "Okay, we've got to make this fast."
                    "Fast? I'll try." Engrid said, "I am an old woman you know."
                    Engrid got out of the car. Now that their espionage mission was over, she was able to sit in the front seat again, leaving the sun hat on the back floorboard.
                    "What was it you needed?"
                    "There are a couple of things. We have to hurry- the mall will be closing soon." Engrid took off towards the entrance. While she didn't come to Columbia often, she seemed to know precisely where she was going.
                    Engrid pulled back the large glass door and held it open for Andrew. After he caught up, she took off down the tile floor of the mall. Turning a few corners, she spotted what she was looking for. Andrew did a double take; not sure he was seeing what he was seeing.
                    "Are you sure this is what you were looking for?"
                    "Absolutely!"
                    Andrew kept close to her heels as he passed the festooned entryway and entered the forbidden world of Victoria Secret. He glanced around at all the scents and brightly colored, scanty clothing. He couldn't imagine that Engrid would shop in a place like this. This type of tawdry and provocative clothing just didn't seem like her.
                    She walked up to the counter and said something to the teenage girl who was working there. The girl disappeared into the back. Engrid turned around and started browsing at some negligee on a display rack.
                    "Engrid, what are we doing here?" Andrew asked, eyebrows arched.
                    "Shopping. That's what you told Evan we were doing, so that's what we'd better do. Evan can be a meddlesome old snoop, so we'd better have some receipts."
                    "You didn't tell me we were coming here."
                    "I didn't think you'd do it. Frankly, it's fun seeing you here."
                    "How often do you shop here?"
                    "Not often. I buy perfume here."
                    "Perfume?"
                    "Yes. Hot Passion." She said, deadpan.
                    He laughed, "What?!"
                    "That's the name of the perfume." She blushed slightly as she said the name out loud. "They stopped making it, so I had a whole box special-ordered from their main warehouse. I was supposed to pick it up today anyway. That way if anyone looked into it, I would have a perfectly legitimate reason to come to town."
                    "Hmmm," Andrew said but didn't elaborate.
                    "I promise it's pure coincidence, but I must admit, it turned out to be convenient."
                    Andrew didn't say anything. He just tried not to look at the merchandise, his discomfort growing.
                    "Oh, come on, lighten up. Dora and I went to a gay bookstore for you."
                    "I suppose so. If you can get over your discomfort, I guess I should do the same."
                    "Good," she took a very skimpy teddy off a rack, "Then I'll slip into this and you can tell me if it looks good."
                    "I will not!"
                    "I'm just kidding. Please, could you see me in something like this? My goodness, not even in my courting days did I ever wear anything like that."
                    The teenage girl came back with a nondescript cardboard box a little bigger than a shoebox. "Here's your order ma'am."
                    "Thank you!" Engrid swiped her debit card, took the receipt, and whisked towards the door, Andrew hot on her trail.
                    "See, that wasn't so bad." Engrid said as they walked down the white tiled floor of the mall beneath the fluorescent lights.
                    "That place even makes me want to watch American football and drink beer."
                    Engrid laughed, "Oh it wasn't that bad. We can stop by a steakhouse on our way home, if you want to feel manly before going home to your boyfriend."
                    "It's a deal. Your treat."
                    Engrid thought for a moment, "Okay. That's fair."
         
         
                    Evan sat on the couch eating a fist full of cheese straws from a recent church potluck and watching an old Murder, She Wrote rerun on TV. It was dark outside. Evan sat on the edge of his seat as Jessica Fletcher was about to be bashed over the head with a brass candlestick. He heard footsteps on the porch. The criminal was sneaking up behind the unsuspecting mystery writer. Evan whirled around, convinced he'd heard footsteps outside. He thought he heard muffled voices coming from outside. He muted the TV and stared at the darkened window. He definitely heard voices; two of them. He crouched down so as not to be spotted by the potential intruders. He got down on his hands and knees and shuffled silently to the window to see what was going on outside. He'd quite gotten into the mystery show, so his nerves were a bit jangled. He could see movement through the opening in the curtains. There was definitely someone standing outside on the porch. He could see their silhouettes against the amber glow of the streetlamps; their hushed tones unintelligible.
         
         
                    Having finished their dinner at the local steakhouse, Engrid and Andrew were back on the road, headed towards Deerfield and home. Their bellies full and the day's adventures complete, the pair rode in silence. They parked in Engrid's driveway and got out. Engrid followed him over. Neither noticed that they were whispering as they walked toward Andrew's house. They mounted the brick steps and went up onto the porch, continuing their conversation in hushed tones.
                    As they stood there, Andrew kept getting an eerie feeling, like they were being watched. He glanced around, his Spidey senses tingling. Engrid noticed his gaze darting around their surroundings. She looked over her shoulder to see what he was watching.
                    "What is it?"
                    "I get the feeling we're being watched."
                    "By whom?"
                    "I don't know. I can't see anything out of the ordinary, just a feeling."
                    "Are your feelings usually right?"
                    "Yes."
                    Now she too was on high alert looking around the shrubbery and the surroundings of a quiet, residential street.
                    "I wonder what it is."
                    "It's probably nothing." Andrew assured her.
                    Engrid was unconvinced. "I'm going to head home."
                    As she was about to turn around something in the window caught her gaze. She stared into the darkness hoping it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. She squinted, now certain she had seen something.
                    She gasped. Andrew turned around and saw what Engrid had already spotted. Just behind the curtains, staring back at them, was a pair of eyes.
                    From his low spot on the floor, Evan couldn't tell how tall the perpetrators were. They looked moderately tall, but he was looking up at them from the floor, so there was an optical illusion that made them appear larger than they probably really were.
                    In a flash, Andrew silently flew through the front door, which Evan had left unlocked. He raced into the living room and tackled the intruder and crushed him to the floor. Engrid yelped at the commotion inside.
                    Andrew rolled the perpetrator over and was surprised at his identity.
                    "Why were you crouching on the floor in the dark?" Andrew asked.
                    "I heard voices outside and I couldn't tell who it was. I thought it might have been robbers."
                    Engrid appeared at the living room door and clicked on the light. "Are you alright? Andrew tackled you pretty hard. I hope he didn't sprain anything."
                    "No, no we're fine." Evan assured her, standing up and dusting himself off.
                    "I'm just glad it was you and not a real intruder, like we thought it was." Engrid said.
                    "I guess going around spying on people got your nerves jangled." Evan said saucily.
                    Andrew and Engrid looked stunned and neither spoke for an instant.
                    Andrew opened his mouth to try to tap dance his way out of it, but Engrid blew their cover.
                    "How did you know?" She asked, the surprise evident on her face.
                    "I didn't. But you just proved it." He grinned, "I'm not new to dealing with either of you."
                    "Well it was a good trip anyway." Engrid said.
                    "Oh really, what did you find out?"
                    "We have a name."
                    "Dylan Riverside," Evan supplied the answer.
                    Again, Andrew and Engrid exchanged glances and in unison, "Oh."
                    Evan blushed. He's promised his mom not to tell Engrid. "I shouldn't have said anything."
                    "Did your mother also tell you that this character Dylan might be married?"
                    "I'm sure he's not married. My mother would not go out with a married man."
                    "She might not know." Engrid admitted.
                    "We might be off course. Remember, we don't know who she really is." Andrew reminded her.
                    "Who is 'she'?"
                    "She's... well, we don't know...exactly." Engrid said, "Actually, we don't know at all, but I have my suspicions."
         Andrew explained further, "The guy your mom is seeing is living with someone named Amanda Riverside. We've never met her so we don't know if she's his wife. She might be his daughter, niece, or any of a number of things. We're not jumping to any conclusions."
                    "But if he is married, don't you think we should let your mom know?" Engrid said, "We don't want her to get hurt by running around with some cheater. Imagine, your mother, an adulteress."
                    "My mother is not an adulteress, Engrid."
                    "How can we be sure?"
                    "Because of where she met him."
                    "Where is that?"
                    "I can't tell you. I promised her I wouldn't. She's inviting us all over for dinner this weekend and she'll introduce us to him then."
                    "Evan, how does where your mother met him affect who Amanda Riverside might be?" Andrew asked.
                    "Fine. She met him at a PFLAG meeting."
                    "PFLAG?"
                    "Yes. Parents and Friends..."
                    "I know what the letters stand for, but what does it mean?" Engrid asked.
                    "It means that Amanda is most likely his daughter...most likely a lesbian daughter. If she is or was his wife, perhaps she came out and they are divorced or separated and he's trying to help her."
                    "Oh." Engrid looked astonished. She had not expected that plot twist.
                    "So, I suggest we don't make any more moves until we meet him this weekend and decide what we think." Evan stated.
                    "This weekend?"
                    Evan was annoyed that he kept giving information away so freely.
                    "My mom is inviting us all to her house this weekend to meet him. When she invites you, make sure you seem surprised."
                    "I will," Engrid promised.
                    Engrid was displeased that she was guilted into not pursuing this any further, but even she had to admit that they really didn't know the full story of what was going on.
         
         
          Chapter 5
         
         
                    The invitations were made, and the evening arrived for the party of six to arrive at Myrtle's house at 6:30. Myrtle was a nervous wreck. She didn't know how much the others knew or what they may have conjectured about what was going on. She'd told Evan some of the things, but not everything and Dora knew some because she'd gone to the PFLAG meetings, but she didn't know anything about Dylan either. Engrid would have just made up her own version of things and convinced Andrew of its veracity.
                    She stood in her kitchen with Dylan behind her as she stirred a pot of boiling black-eyed peas and lima beans. The scent of the pot roast wrapped in aluminum foil and nestled against sliced carrots, potatoes, and onions wafted up from the hot oven.
                    "Myrtle, I hope this evening goes well." Dylan cast his eyes at the floor.
                    "Me too. I'm worried because these people are my family. I want them to like you."
                    "I hope they will. The age thing might throw them for a bit, but I think they'll come around. From what you've told me, these are actually progressive people."
                    "I don't know if 'progressive' is quite the word, but I guess they've had to adapt to a lot of stuff lately. This is just par for the course."
         
         
                    Meanwhile, Evan, Andrew, Engrid, and Dora proceeded on foot in a huddle up the street to Myrtle's house.
                    "I wonder what he'll be like." Dora said, "There were a lot of different types of people at those meetings."
                    "You're not supposed to know where she met him," Evan reminded her.
                    "I knew she was going to those meetings. Suddenly she shows up with some mysterious stranger from out of town. It wouldn't take a lot for me to jump to the conclusion that she met him at one of those meetings."
                    "What are they like?" Andrew asked, "I've never been to one myself."
                    "You've never been to a PFLAG meeting?" Dora seemed incredulous.
                    "They're for parents and friends, not for gay people themselves."
                    "You don't have any gay friends?"
                    "Well, yes. I do."
                    "Then they're for you too, dingbat." Dora teased.
                    Andrew laughed, "I guess you're right."
                    They walked the remainder of the 100 yards in silence.
                    Myrtle heard the doorbell ring. Her nerves were jangled enough as it was and now the future hung in the balance. A lot depended on the outcome of the evening.
                    She swung her front door open and greeted her visitors with a mixture of grace and nerves. Engrid smiled back along with the others. Engrid, Dora, Evan and Andrew stood in a huddle on the front porch looking back at her. Dylan walked up behind Myrtle.
                    "Aren't you going to invite your guests in?" He asked politely.
                    "Won't you come in?" She smiled again, "Where are my manners?"
                    The foursome walked single-filed through the door and into the foyer.
                    Dylan, a timbre in his voice said, "I would take your coats but it's not cold enough for that yet." He laughed nervously and then cleared his throat when no one returned his attempted mirth.
                    Dora just stared at the child before her, nearly 60 years her junior. Dylan was in excellent shape, robust and muscular. His jet-black hair was meticulously coiffed and there was plenty of it. His hair was so nice it made Andrew a little jealous.
                    "I have to know what kind of styling gel you use." Andrew stated, hoping he'd aimed for a safe conversational area.
                    "American Crew...it's a light holding gel."
                    "Very nice. I have a tea tree oil one I like. It's a leave-in conditioner."
                    "That sounds nice. I'll have to try that one someday."
                    Engrid rolled her eyes and made a conscious effort not to scowl. She was dying to ask Dylan if he was a cheating scuzz-bucket and what on earth he was doing running around with a woman old enough to be his mother. But the mind-numbing conversation about styling gel continued. Myrtle got her wits about her again and invited them into the living room to sit down. She sat down too, next to Dylan. She needed to go check on dinner, but she wasn't about to leave Dylan alone with these four yahoos. She suspected there had been long conversations about Dylan and there was probably a plot already in motion when they arrived. They were huddled together on the porch like they had just discussed their team's next play. She half expected them to say something about a scrimmage as they came through the door.
                    Dylan was the first to stand up, "Can I get anyone something to drink? We have wine and other things too." Myrtle breathed a visible sigh of relief.
                    "Wine?" Dora said, "No, no, just tea is fine for me."
                    "Tea's good for me too," Engrid answered politely.
                    Once the drink orders were placed, Dylan left the room headed towards the kitchen. Engrid craned her neck to watch until he was sufficiently out of sight. "So," she turned to Myrtle, "How are things going?"
                    "Things are going very well."
                    "That's good. Where did you meet him?" She shot a glance at Evan. She'd asked right away so that she could be free to discuss the topic without Myrtle knowing that Evan had ratted her out earlier in the week.
                    "Well... it's a long story."
                    Engrid smiled sweetly, "We've got time." She swept her hands around the room, "We have all the time in the world."
                    Myrtle's stomach churned, "I met him at a support group meeting."
                    "Okay. What kind of support group?"
                    Myrtle explained the whole thing. Once she started talking, it all seemed easier and less like imminent doom was approaching. Her heart and mind already were lightening as she unburdened herself to her friends and family. Engrid and the others sat quietly listening to the bullet-point version of how they met at the PFLAG meeting.
                    "So, Dora knew about this?" Engrid asked.
                    Dora looked annoyed, "Out of all she said, that's what you picked up on?"
         "I wanted to be clear."
                    "I knew about the PFLAG meetings, but I didn't know about Dylan until now."
                    Dylan reappeared at the door with a serving tray with various beverage options.
                    "What didn't you know about Dylan?" he asked.
                    "Everything," Dora stated, "Myrtle was filling us in on how you two met."
                    "I'm surprised Engrid and Andrew didn't tell you about me."
                    "Tell me what?" Dora asked, "What would they know the rest of us don't?"
                    Dylan made eye contact with Andrew, "Why don't you tell Dora what you discovered the other day?"
                    "We didn't find anything," Andrew stated firmly, but glanced at his co-conspirator. Engrid looked at Evan. No one made eye contact with Myrtle.
                    "At least nothing that relates to you," Engrid added, turning back to face her accuser.
                    "Nothing you can be sure of is what you mean," He replied, with a coy, almost mocking smile.
                    Myrtle sat watching the exchange. She wasn't sure if she should be scared that some shocking truth was about to come out or amused that Engrid and Andrew were about to get their comeuppance for spying on Dylan.
                    "What does that mean?" Engrid inquired.
                    "It means I saw you."
                    "I'm sure you didn't see anything." Engrid wasn't giving an inch, "You must have seen someone else. I'm sure of it."
                    "I'm not stupid. I know what I saw. I saw you following me. I saw you creep up to my house and then run away like your butts were on fire."
                    "But we don't know anything. It was a fruitless mission." Andrew stated, irritated at being caught red-handed.
                    Myrtle looked shocked and disappointed.
                    "What about the piece of mail you stole?"
                    "You stole something from his house?" Myrtle was surprised at their brazenness.
                    "We had to, Myrtle. It was for your own good." Engrid explained.
                    "My own good! This I've got to hear. How is mail theft for my own good?"
                    The two failed spies sat quietly. Andrew cast his eyes at the floor, ashamed.
                    Engrid spoke first, "Because when a guy like this starts going around with a much older... uh more mature...woman, we need to find out what he's up to."
                    "What do you mean 'a guy like this'?"
                    "Oh Myrtle, in the looks department, this guy even puts Andrew and Evan to shame."
                    "Hey!" The two boys replied in unison.
                    "No offense, I'm just making a point..." she stated, paused, then added, "You know what I mean."
                    "Why is it any of your business?" Myrtle brought them back on topic.
                    "I care about you and I don't want to see you get hurt by running around with a married man."
                    "A married man?"
                    "Yes. Well...maybe. See, that's the part we're not sure about."
                    "Not sure about what?"
                    She turned to Dylan and spat out the question she'd been dying to ask all evening, "Who is Amanda Riverside?"
                    Dylan blanched, "I don't know."
                    "What do you mean you 'don't know'?" Her eyes narrowed.
                    "I have never heard of her."
                    "Really? That was the name on the mail we... retrieved from your house." Engrid said.
                    "It's the same last name as you, so it probably wasn't a previous occupant." Andrew added to make sure Dylan knew he'd been caught.
                    Myrtle looked at him, "Dylan, who is Amanda Riverside?"
                    Dylan looked heartsick, "Okay. I was hoping this wouldn't come up until later... if ever. Amanda Riverside is my daughter."
                    "Why did you deny having a daughter?" Myrtle asked.
                    Dylan looked solemnly at the floor. Myrtle looked at him sympathetically. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. Having a daughter was nothing to be ashamed of so why did he lie about it?
                    "She's a little different."
                    "Different how?" Myrtle asked.
                    "She's a lesbian."
                    Everyone just stared at him.
                    "And?" Engrid asked, tilting her head- certain that wasn't the whole story.
                    "And I wasn't sure how Myrtle would react. I want her to like me as much as I like her."
                    The whole crowd sat in silence for a few moments, not sure where to go with this.
                    Engrid started talking, "Pardon my ignorance, but you met at a PFLAG meeting. How is this lesbian daughter thing a big revelation?"
                    "I'm not comfortable around gay people. In fact, I don't like them at all. That's why I went to the meeting where I met Myrtle. I wanted to get over it but when I saw all those gay people, I wanted to throw up. I only went to one or two meetings. I didn't say anything to Myrtle about it because I didn't know what her feelings were about the subject. I didn't know if she found gay people as gross as I do."
                    Evan and Andrew looked puzzled. Dora and Engrid looked at each other and scratched their heads.
                    Engrid cleared her throat and bit her lower lip slightly trying not to let a chuckle escape, "So the big revelation here isn't that you are married, it's that you dislike gay people."
                    "I can't believe you thought I was married. I would never cheat on a wife." Dylan was incensed.
                    Dora spoke up, "This might be a dangerous question, but how do you deal with your daughter?"
                    "I don't. The night she came out to me, I threw her out of the house. That was a couple of months ago. I haven't seen or heard from her since."
                    Everyone except Dylan gasped. "But I want to find her again. I'm worried something might have happened to her."
                    "Something traumatic already has. How old is she?"
                    "15."
                    Evan was mad. "You threw your 15-year-old daughter out of the house?"
                    "Yes."
                    "And you don't know where she is?" Engrid was aghast.
                    "No. I didn't want to talk about her because I didn't want it to make Myrtle not like me."
                    "What I want is for you to get out of my house," Myrtle stated flatly.
                    "Myrtle, baby, we can work this out."
                    She eyed him with a look of fiercest fire. "Get out."
                    "Oh, I get it. These four are gay, aren't they? The two guys and the two old broads. I bet they're a couple of queens and Lesbos."
                    "Who are you?" Myrtle asked, "This isn't the same person I've spent the last couple of weeks with."
                    Dylan turned and stormed out of the house just as the timer on the oven dinged. Five blank, startled faces watched him leave.
                    "Who wants pot roast?" Myrtle asked, her eyes tearing up.
                    "I'm so sorry, Mom. I'd hoped to like him."
                    "I know, Evan. I know." She sniffled, "I had no idea he felt that way."
                    "Are you going to be okay?" Engrid asked.
                    "I'll be fine. I'm tough."
                    "We should go," Dora said, patting Myrtle on her knee, "You need some time to think all this through."
                    "No, please stay. I don't want to be alone right now." Myrtle looked up with eyes of pure heartbreak into Dora's aged face.
                    "Then pot-roast it is." Engrid said, "It smells glorious."
                    "Thank you."
                    Once seated in the dining room, the eating commenced.
                    "The conversation of the evening might have been a complete and total, unmitigated disaster, but the food is exquisite." Dora said.
                    Myrtle mused, "There were so many scenarios I had worked out in my head of how this evening would go. Some of them went well, others not so well, but I never imagined it being such a...such a... I don't even know how to describe it."
                    Engrid said, "I thought I'd catch him and expose him as an adulterer. But it turns out he had a far worse secret to expose."
                    "You were hoping he was an adulterer?"
                    "Well, 'hoping' is not the right word. I thought he was. Andrew tried to talk me down about it, but my mind was pretty well set that he was a no-good dirty rotten scoundrel."
                    "He is a no-good dirty-rotten scoundrel, just for a different reason," Andrew said, "And Evan and I are not gross."
                    "He's the gross one," Dora declared.
                    "But what we need to do now is certain," Engrid said, tapping her fork on the edge of her plate.
                    "What's that?" Evan inquired.
                    "We've got to go find Amanda Riverside. I cannot bear to think of a 15 year-old girl out there fending for herself. She's out there on the streets with common criminals and doing God only knows what. There's no end to the trouble she could be in."
                    "I agree," Andrew said, "We should go find her."
                    "Okay. But I have no idea where to start." Myrtle admitted, "Columbia is a big city. Plus she might have hitch hiked or taken a bus somewhere else."
                    "But we'll start in Columbia. It's the biggest net we can reasonably throw. I wonder if there is an organization that helps teens like her." Engrid said.
                    "I'm sure there is, but I have no idea how to find them." Evan said.
                    "411? We could call information and ask about where we might look," Evan suggested.
                    "Information? Really?" Andrew replied, scrunching his eyebrows.
                    "Maybe we could go to the police and report her missing." Myrtle said.
                    Engrid rejected that saying, "We have no pictures of her and we don't know what she looks like and we really know nothing about her besides her name and who her father is. We wouldn't be much help to the police. I think we're on our own at this point."
                    Dora said, "I think we should go to a church in a bad neighborhood. They probably help out kids like her on a regular basis. They may not have seen her, but they could get us in the door to find out who might know something."
                    "That's a brilliant idea, Dora!" Engrid effused. "But the church will be closed tonight."
                    "You wanted to go tonight?"
                    "Yes- as soon as we're finished eating. In fact, we should pack up the rest and take it with us. That way if we find her, we can offer her something decent to eat."
                    "Okay. Let's do that." Myrtle agreed. "It's always good to help out people in need."
                    "Okay. We're in," Evan and Andrew agreed.
                    "I'm glad something good came out of this wretched evening," Myrtle stated.
                    "Me too!" Engrid said.
                    They quickly finished eating and piled in Engrid's car because it was the roomiest.
         
         
          Chapter 6
                   
                    Once they reached the outskirts of Columbia, the problem became how to find a bad neighborhood.
                    "Now that we're here, I have no idea where to go. I don't know Columbia very well," Engrid admitted.
                    "Let's just drive around a bit and see what we can find."
                    "If we do find this 'neighborhood' what are we going to do then? I mean, we're five gleaming white people driving around in a Lincoln in the middle of the night. We're making a really big target out of ourselves," Andrew pointed out.
                    "That's a bit racist. If we were black, we could still get mugged." Engrid stated, "Black people can be victims too, you know."
                    "Well of course black people can get mugged too. I didn't mean it as a racist statement; I only meant that we're making targets out of ourselves."
                    Engrid thought about it for a moment. "We could go undercover. Dora, do you remember that thrift shop we volunteered in a few years ago? We helped them with their annual inventory audit. It's open until 10. If I can just remember where it is we could get some clothes and go undercover at a homeless shelter and see if we can ask around."
                    "Engrid, you're a brainchild," Andrew exclaimed, "That's precisely what we'll do. Evan, Myrtle and Dora can be our back-up in case we get into trouble or chicken out. Myrtle and Evan can come get us while Dora contacts the police if necessary and directs them to our whereabouts. You and I will go undercover, and we'll use our cell phones to communicate if we need to."
                    "This sounds dangerous," Myrtle said, "You two could get hurt."
                    "We'll be fine."
                    Dora spoke up, "If you turn left up here, go down about three blocks, the thrift shop is on the left. It's on the corner of Floyd Street and Minnesota Avenue."
                    Engrid skillfully guided the big luxury sedan to the curb in front of the thrift shop. It was still open, its bright, fluorescent lights illuminating the dark street.
                    "You three stay in here, Engrid and I will go in. Evan, you drive." Andrew directed.
                    Andrew and Engrid got out of the car and peered in the window of the late-night thrift shop. "I'm glad this is open. It would be a lot harder to pass as a homeless person dressed the way we are."
                    "Yeah. We're dressed for a different kind of dinner party."
                    "I just hope this goes okay and we can rescue that girl without getting our fool selves killed in the process." Engrid said.
                    "If we have a problem, I will try to get us out."
                    "What are you, a ju-jitsu master or something?" Engrid replied, rolling her eyes.
                    Andrew just smiled coyly and pulled open the glass door.
                    "You are, aren't you?"
                    "I picked up a few tricks growing up in Brazil."
                    They started rambling through the racks of second-hand clothing trying to find something that could pass for what they were up to. There were a few possibilities.
                    "I cannot imagine living in a foreign country. I had a great aunt Sylvia in Oregon. She was a missionary in China back around 1890 to 1910. Then the Boxer Rebellion happened, and they threw her and every other American Westerner out of the country. I loved to listen to her stories of living in China back in those days. She would tell stories about people who came to their mission and the things they did to help."
                    "We're helping someone in need too. Right here in Columbia, South Carolina. You don't always have to go to China to be a missionary."
                    "No, I don't suppose so. I guess you do what you can where you are. But for some people, their calling is overseas. I've just never felt like that for me."
                    "Neither have I. I enjoyed being in other countries, but I'm pretty set here."
                    "That's good. What do you think of this?" Engrid held up an old dress that looked like it had been made from an even older curtain. It was a faded floral print with slightly off-set seams. But it had been double stitched.
                    "As long as you don't end up like its original owner."
                    "What do you mean?"
                    "Looking at the dress, my guess is that it was made by hand many years ago. Then the owner, who took great pride in making it, died and her kids dumped all her old clothes here. See, there are several dresses on this rack with the same style and similar prints.
                    "It's about my size. I think this is the one I'll wear. You can wear that ratty old tweed coat and herringbone dress shirt from over there."
                    "Hmmm. It's not 1978. I'll just wear this Def Leppard T-shirt and this pair of jeans with the holes in the legs."
                    "That would be fine."
                    They made their purchases and went outside. Engrid tapped on the glass of the front passenger window and Myrtle pressed the button and the window descended with an electric hum.
                    Engrid stated, "We're going to go over there in that alley and change our clothes. We'll be back in a minute."
                    "Um...okay." Myrtle chuckled, not knowing what else to say in response.
                    Myrtle pressed the other button and the window ascended again and Engrid and Andrew walked away.
                    Once in the alley, Engrid said, "Okay, I'm going over there behind that dumpster to change. No peeking."
                    "I won't. I promise I won't peek."
                    "Don't sound so certain. Geez give an old lady at least the feeling that she can still turn heads."
                    "You can turn heads; the question is whether they're turning towards or away." Andrew grinned.
                    "Ouch! That's mean." She smiled, "Then I won't peek at you either."
                    "You were planning on peeking?"
                    She pursed her lips. "It had crossed my mind." She took her newly acquired floral print housecoat-looking dress towards the dumpster. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Andrew pulling his shirt off over his head. She couldn't help herself. She scurried behind the dumpster and peeked around the corner. Andrew didn't change clothes one piece at a time. He'd taken off both his shirt and his pants at the same time.
                    "My goodness," Engrid whispered to herself, "Evan is one lucky duck."
                    She quickly banished any inappropriate thoughts from her head and went about changing her own outfit.
                    "Are you finished yet?" Andrew called out.
                    "I'm an old woman, give me a few minutes." She was kind of embarrassed at herself for the thoughts that momentarily flashed through her mind when she saw the beautiful man in the moonlight only a pair of black boxer briefs and socks away from being stark naked. She pulled the dress over her head and smoothed out the bottom hem against her legs. "I wish I'd brought a slip; this material is rather rough."
                    "You are wearing underwear, aren't you?"
                    "Yes, of course I am. But the legs are uncovered."
                    "We can find a 24-hour Wal-Mart and you can pick up a slip and some pantyhose if you'd be more comfortable."
                    "No, no, this will be fine. I'll only be wearing this dress for a few hours. Then I'll donate it back to the thrift shop."
                    The pair emerged from the alleyway clad in their new outfits.
                    The trio in the car started laughing as Engrid pulled open the car door.
                    "What's so funny?" Engrid asked, readjusting her dress to sit down in the car.
                    "You," Dora said, trying to compose herself, "You look like a Baptist church lady after a nuclear winter."
                    "Very funny," She did not seem particularly amused, "Now we have to find a homeless shelter. I was hoping there was someone in the alley we could ask, but there wasn't anyone there but us."
                    "You could ask the store clerk. She might know."
                    Engrid was out of the car in a flash and headed through the door of the thrift shop. She returned momentarily. "Okay, it's only a few miles from here."
                    She gave them directions from her place in the backseat while Evan drove the car. After a few turns down dark, deserted streets, they had no idea where they were.
                    "I could have sworn this is where she said it was. Circle the block and see if we see it."
                    They drove around for a bit and came out in a better lit area with more street lights.
                    Myrtle pointed out ahead, "There's a police car. We can ask him for directions."
                    As they slowed for their approach to the police car, another patrol car appeared out of what seemed like thin air and screeched to a halt, blocking the street. The officer jumped out of his car and ran toward a tree. He tackled someone and dragged the perpetrator out of the shrubbery and slammed him down on the sidewalk.
                    "Good Lord, let's get out of here!" Dora shouted. Evan threw the car into reverse as another police car came up behind them and blocked the other exit.
                    "Oh my, this isn't good." Engrid observed.
                    The officer in the car behind them jumped out and pointed his service revolver at the Lincoln full of people, yelling "Shut off the engine and step out of the car."
                    Having handcuffed the man extracted from the azaleas, the other officer joined the second in pointing his service revolver at the Lincoln full of people. Evan shut off the engine and glanced over at his mother, who seemed just as shocked and horrified as himself. He rolled down the window with its customary electric hum.
                    "What are you doing out here?" The officer demanded, shining his flashlight into the windows. Evan just looked back blankly.
                    "I asked you a question." The officer stated strongly.
                    Evan swallowed hard.
                    Engrid grabbed the back of the front seat and pulled herself forward.
                    "We're looking for a homeless shelter called Hospitality House. Have you heard of it?"
                    "Yes. I've heard of it. Why are you looking for it at this time of night?"
                    Engrid feigned sheepishness and said, "We need a place to stay."
                    "The outfit's kind of shabby but you don't look homeless."
                    Andrew explained, "We were all living together in my trailer out at the Shady Acres trailer park, but we lost it because Evan here got laid off and I don't know what we'll do and we are so tired and we've been driving around trying to find a place to stay. Won't you help us sir?"
                    The officer thought for a moment. "Okay. I don't think you're mixed up in what's going on out here.
                    "We're not, officers. We just want some food and a clean place to sleep." Engrid informed the policeman.
                    He paused a minute more. "Son, I'll need to see your driver's license."
                    Evan fished around in his back pocket for his wallet.
                    "Officer," Engrid began, "I promise you we aren't any trouble. We just want to get on our way. It looks to me like you've got your hands full as it is."
                    "I do have my hands full. I just want to make sure my hands aren't about to get a lot fuller."
                    Evan produced his wallet from his back pocket and handed over his driver's license.
                    "Are you the owner of the car?"
                    "No."
                    "I am." Engrid piped up from her perch on the edge of the backseat.
                    "I'll need to see your license as well and the registration."
                    Upon Engrid's instructions, Myrtle produced the registration from the glove box and handed it over. The officer looked at them carefully as Myrtle watched the back of the head of the perpetrator in the backseat of the patrol car. Engrid was getting impatient. If this took much longer, all the people in the shelter would be asleep and it would have to wait until morning anyway. The officer handed the cards and papers back to Evan and sent them away with just a word of caution and directions to Hospitality House.
                    "Okay. Stop up here," Engrid pointed to the edge of a park.
                    "What are we stopping for?" Myrtle asked, noting the lack of adequate lighting.
                    "That's the shelter up ahead."
                    "I know that, but it doesn't answer my question." Myrtle informed Engrid.
                    Engrid glanced at Andrew who explained. "Okay. We are staking out this homeless shelter. Engrid and I are going inside to investigate. You three stay out here and keep watch. Myrtle and Evan will watch the shelter and what's going on in front of the car. Dora will keep watch of the sides and rear to make sure no one sneaks up on you. If anyone comes by- I mean anyone- I don't care if it's a little old lady walking her dog, I want you to drive away from here immediately- do not give them a chance to approach the car- and then text us that you went away. I want you to go away for about 10 minutes then come back to this spot and text me that you've returned. Does everyone understand the plan?"
                    The remainder of the group just stared at Andrew, wondering how he learned to put together a stake-out.
                    He continued, "I jotted this down." He handed a small piece of paper to Evan.
                    "Evan, I want you to create four text messages addressed to me. The first one, and I wrote them both down, says, 'went away- no trouble' that will tell me that you had to leave but nothing is majorly wrong. The next is - 'went away- trouble' that will tell me that someone suspicious looking came by and you left, or you had some kind of problem but that you are okay. The third says 'We're back' that lets me know that you are outside again. Okay?"
                    "I'll do that right now." Evan slipped the cell phone out of his pocket and started pressing buttons.
                    Engrid spoke, "Dora, there's a pair of binoculars in the glove compartment. Use them to keep an eye out for people approaching. That way you can see them while they're still far enough away for you to escape."
                    No one in the group seemed convinced that this plan was going to work. There were just so many ifs - there were other shelters she could be in if she was in a shelter at all, she may not come with them if they did find her- they could get into trouble with the police for looking for her if she distrusted them and called the police.
                    Engrid and Andrew got out of the car and approached the homeless shelter. If it was already full, their plan was faulty, and they would gather no further information tonight.
                    Engrid knocked on the metal security door of the shelter. A plump, matronly woman with wavy gray hair pulled open the large wooden door behind the metal one. She looked them up and down, not sure what to make of her visitors.
                    "May I help you?" She sounded pleasant but direct.
                    Andrew began, "We need a place to stay for the night."
                    "Everyone's already gone to bed for the night. There's no more room."
                    "Oh," Andrew looked truly disappointed. After all they'd planned, was it all for naught?
                    "Where else can we go?" Engrid asked.
                    "People stay all over. The other shelters are also closed for the night. In order to get a bed, you'd have to be at the shelter by about 8:00. After that, the doors close. They close early if they fill up."
                    "Do they fill up?"
                    "Almost always. We were filled up by about 7:30. You must be new at this."
                             "We are new at being homeless."
                             "That's because you aren't really homeless."
                             They looked confused. "What do you mean?"
                             "I've seen this charade before. You're looking for someone."
                             Engrid smirked slightly, "How could you tell?"
                             "I just can. The question is- do I trust you enough to tell you what you want to know?"          
                    "You can trust us. We have only the best of intentions," Engrid assured her.
                             Andrew said, "I'm sure everyone says that, but we're actually telling the truth."
                             She eyed them both. She spoke to Andrew, "I wouldn't tell you in a million years."
                    She looked at Engrid, "But I'll tell you. If you both will do two things for me."
                    "What's that?" Engrid asked.
                    "First...what are your names and what city do you live in?"
                    "Oh. We should have given you those a long time ago. That was very rude of us! My name is Engrid Mae Matthews and this is my friend and next-door neighbor Andrew Clark Garrison. We live in Deerfield- about 45 minutes from here."
                    "So, what's the second thing?" Andrew asked.
                    "I'll need to see your driver's licenses. I want to make sure you're telling the truth."
                    Andrew and Engrid were both satisfied with that and relieved that they'd decided against using fake names. They pulled out their licenses and handed them over. The woman inspected them. "My name is Joyce Elliot. I hope I can help you."
                    "We're looking for Amanda Riverside. Do you know her?"
                    "Come inside." She stepped aside and let them enter. She ushered them into a tiny, cramped and cluttered office. There were old, gray metal shelves overloaded with loose paper, old books, crumbling binders, and the general detritus of life.
                    Andrew remained standing as the two ladies took the only seats. Engrid placed herself in a dusty old Eames chair from the 1960s and glanced around the room. Given the change in reception, it was obvious Joyce Elliot knew something about Amanda Riverside.
                    "So, you are looking for Amanda Riverside."
                    "Yes. Can you help us? We need to find her before she gets into trouble."
                    "Too late."
                    "What's happened to her?"
                    Joyce swallowed hard, "She's gotten into some... trouble."
                    "What kind of trouble?" Engrid's mothering instinct came forward full force.
                    Joyce made very clear and direct eye contact with both Engrid and Andrew.
                    "I wouldn't suggest finding her tonight."
                    "Why?"
                    "It's too dangerous. She's not in a shelter tonight."
                    "How can you be sure?"
                    "Because you cannot be on drugs and stay in a shelter. People who run shelters like these know instantly if you are on any kind of narcotic. We can judge character almost instantly. The moment I opened the door I knew that you weren't addicts, you weren't homeless, and that you were looking for someone and that you had a genuine interest in helping the person you were looking for."
                    "Oh dear. Andrew, we may be too late." Engrid said.
                    "I hope not. When should we go look for her?"
                    "Tomorrow evening."
                    "Where would she be?"
                    "Come back tomorrow at 5:30 and I'll tell you then if you insist on doing this. I don't want you going there tonight. I was serious when I said it was dangerous. I have a real passion for helping the homeless and many of them are wonderful people, but they aren't all happy hobos. Some of them will kill you and take everything you've got."
                    "Oh my. Why would they hurt us?" Engrid asked, her naivetgleaming.
                    "A lot of them have substance abuse issues, others have mental problems- some are just mad and will take it out on you because you're not like them. The vast majority of homeless people are the nicest, gentlest people you could meet and they're just down on their luck, but it only takes one cruel one to take your life and leave you in a ditch."
                    "Okay." Engrid really didn't know what else to say, she was startled by the bluntness of Joyce's statements.
                    After a few moments of silence, Andrew spoke, "So, tomorrow at 5:30."
                    "Yes. Just ring the bell and I'll come and tell you what you need to know."
                    They agreed to the arrangements Joyce specified.
                    As they rose to leave, Engrid asked, "What else could you tell us about meeting us? I'd be curious to know."
                    Joyce smiled, "You live in an older house and you drive a big car but not a new car- I'd say about 10 years old, but the car is still in really good shape. From what I could see glancing up the street, I'd say a silver Lincoln Town Car - and you brought reinforcements. A young guy similar in age to you, Andrew, and an elderly woman similar in age to you, Engrid and a middle-aged woman. Engrid you are a retired school teacher, widowed, several children, some of whom went astray- hence your determination to find Amanda. Let's see what else...you are in your late 80's possible 90's but you've taken excellent care of yourself and stay active in your community- you do volunteer work along with the other elderly woman in the car. She's either your sister or like a sister to you. Either way the two of you have been friends for many, many years. You weren't born around here but you've lived here since you were a young adult. Andrew, you're college-educated and have a professional career- something to do with money or math. You've lived in a lot of places--you weren't raised entirely by your parents, but whoever did raise you was career military. How did I do?"
                    "Spooky," Engrid replied, "So we'll be back here at 5:30 tomorrow."
                    "If you insist, I'll see you then."
                    Myrtle and Evan watched the door of the shelter intently. They weren't sure what was going on. All they knew was that Andrew and Engrid had gained entry into the shelter, nothing else. They were quizzical when the pair reappeared on the doorstep of the shelter. Either they had been turned away after all, or there were further developments. Evan started the car and pulled slowly forward. Engrid was startled at first as the headlamps turned on suddenly and a car engine roared to life. She relaxed slightly when she realized that it was her own vehicle coming to retrieve her.
                    Evan rolled down the window, "What happened?"
                    "We have to come back tomorrow."
                    "Why? Are they closed?"
                    "Yes, but that's not why. I'll explain- let's go home." She pulled open the car door and sat down. She scooted over to allow Andrew to slide in behind her. Engrid explained the situation to the rest of the crew as they drove along the quiet Columbia streets headed out towards the highway that would take them home.
                    "My goodness I hope that girl's going to be alright." Dora said, shaking her head.
                    "What worries me are the others," Engrid said.
                    "What 'others'?"
                    "Amanda at least has someone looking for her. How many others are there that no one knows exists and that no one cares about finding? Amanda might turn out to be one of the lucky ones. If we can find her before it's entirely too late."
                    The group sat quietly pondering what Engrid said, knowing she was right.
                    "So, I guess that's it. We've done what we can for tonight." Myrtle said.
                    "I hate to admit it, but I think you're right," Engrid stated, "We've done all we can."
                    The group rode the rest of the way home in silence, wondering what Amanda was doing tonight or where she was that would be so dangerous that Joyce wouldn't tell them.
                    That night, Engrid lay in bed wondering what sort of world they were about to become involved in. She'd helped out in soup kitchens and stuff over the years; but, this was different. Engrid tossed and turned as she pondered the possibilities of why Joyce wouldn't tell them what was going on.
         
         
                    The following afternoon, Engrid walked over to Andrew and Evan's house to brainstorm how they were going to proceed for the evening.
                    "I'm not sure if all of us should go." Engrid began, sitting down on the sofa in the living room, "We would be too conspicuous."
                    "Who do you think should go?"
                    "Just Andrew and me. And we'll take his car. A black Pathfinder will blend in better than a silver Lincoln. We both have cell phones, so we'll be able to call if we get into trouble."
                    "I'd rather go with you," Evan stated, "Even if I just guard the car."
                    "No, if the car is going to get stolen, I'd rather it be empty than have you get carjacked in a bad neighborhood in the middle of the night. I'd hate it if the police found your dead body in a river a week from now."
                    "I'd hate to read about yours in the newspaper." Dora spoke from the open doorway, "Engrid, if you two go out there by yourselves you'll get yourselves killed. I know you want to help, I'm just not sure this is the best way."
                    "We've got to find her. The police do what they can, but they have their hands full as it is. As concerned citizens, we should do this. I've made up my mind, Andrew and I will go on this mission. The rest of you stay home. You can stay here together if you want to and wait for us to call with an update or get back from the trip."
                    Myrtle appeared in the hallway behind Dora. Dora turned and explained Engrid's decision. She wasn't too pleased with it, but there was little point in discussing it once Engrid's mind was set on something. Engrid and Andrew changed into their homeless clothes, got into his black Nissan Pathfinder and left the remainder of the group standing on the front porch watching them drive off into the sparkling sun of an October afternoon.
                    "I hope they're going to be okay." Dora said, worried as they drove out of sight. The rest of the group concurred.
         
         
          Chapter 7
                    Engrid and Andrew drove up in front of the homeless shelter at 5:28. Joyce was watching from a barred window and moved to meet them at the door.
                    "I figured you'd be back." Joyce smiled at them.
                    They took their seats in her tiny, cramped office once again. This time, there was another chair- a metal folding chair for Andrew- Joyce had been expecting them and was prepared for their arrival.
                    "So," Joyce began, "You're looking for Amanda Riverside."
                    "Yes. We're still looking for her. We took your advice and went home last night and we've returned to see what else we can find out."
                    "That's good. It's better to get an early start. Let me start by saying that I hope you can help her. So many of these kids get into trouble- it's nice to see normal, honest citizens going out of their way to help. So, word on the street is that Amanda's been getting into drugs. It's not that uncommon with this population, but that's why you won't find her in any shelters. There's a group of homeless addicts who gather at night around Milford Park, down by the river under the 17th Street Bridge. The reason I specified 5:30 is that you do not want to be down there after dark."
                    "So, we just go down there and ask if anybody's seen her?"
                    "That's basically how it works. These folks don't have permanent addresses or phone numbers, so the best you can do is try to track them down manually. She might not be there, who knows. This might be a wild goose chase, but it's the best shot you've got to find her."
                    "Then I guess we will take what we can get." Andrew said, rising to leave.
                    They got in the pathfinder and drove off towards 17th street hoping to find Amanda before it was entirely too late to rescue her. Andrew got off the freeway and drove down toward a park near the bridge where they might find a parking space. The park was quite large with green grass, rolling hills, and large hardwood trees shading the land along the river's edge. During the day, it was a beautiful park that was used for lunches and leisurely strolls by the occupants of the nearby office parks and apartment complexes. By night, Engrid shuddered to think what went on in this same park.
                    Sitting in the safety of Andrew's Pathfinder, Engrid renegotiated their situation with herself. What on earth had they gotten themselves into? Was this really worth the risk? Were they going to be able to do some good for someone else or succeed only in harming themselves and getting into trouble?
                    "I hope this is a good idea," Engrid commented, staring out at the open park.
                    "Me too. I just hope this isn't a wild goose chase. What do we expect to do if we find her? I doubt she'd throw open her arms and welcome us."
                    "Why not?" Engrid hadn't considered the possibility that Amanda would reject their offer. After all, her best interest was their primary focus.
                    "She has no idea who we are or what we're really up to. She might think we're trying to kidnap her, turn her into the police, sell her spleen on eBay, we could be up to almost anything."
                    Engrid looked astonished, "I hadn't thought of that. If she does, what will we do?"
                    "If she won't come with us, there's not much else we can do."
                    "I wonder if Joyce could help. She's been working with people all her life."
                    "I think that if Joyce could help, she would have already. She doesn't seem like the type to just sit by and do nothing."
                    "That's true. Well, all we can do is try. If she says no...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then, the plan remains in force."
         
         
          Chapter 8
         
         
                    Evan, Dora and Myrtle were still standing on the front porch worrying about what Andrew and Engrid were about to get themselves into, when another car engine approached from the other direction. It was a little green sports car. It whizzed past Evan and Andrew's house and slid to a stop in front of Myrtle's abode.
                    "Goodness gracious, what does he want?" Dora wondered aloud.
                    "I don't know, but I can't believe he had the nerve to show back up here." Myrtle scowled. "Should I go confront him or should I stay here until he leaves?"
                    Dora just shrugged, "I don't know. Whatever you think is best."
                    "I don't feel like talking to him." Myrtle said, grumpily.
                    "Then stay here, Mom, he doesn't deserve a second glance from you."
                    The three watched and waited as Dylan hurried up the pea gravel pathway to Myrtle's front door. They waited and waited until about five minutes had passed by and he still hadn't returned to his car and left. They could not see him directly because the front corner of Engrid's house was in the way.
                    Evan spoke, "Dora, walk across the street and see if you can see what's going on."
                    Dora walked down the steps and went across the street like she was going to the McKelvey's old house. She had a bad feeling about this. The older couple had moved to Dallas a few months ago to be closer to their son who was a CPA in the metroplex. She hurried purposefully up the steps to their house and knocked on the door, knowing perfectly well the house was vacant. Of course, no one answered, so she stood on the porch as though it were a perfectly ordinary thing to do. She was waiting for the occupants to open the door.
                    The house was far enough away from Myrtle's not to attract Dylan's attention but close enough that Dora could see a fair amount of detail, not that there was that much to see. Dylan was sitting on the steps twiddling his thumbs, obviously waiting for Myrtle to return home. Her car was in the driveway, so Dora figured it must be obvious to him that Myrtle wasn't too far away.
                   Unless he thought she was inside and was just ignoring him- not that anyone could blame her for that after the spectacle he'd made of himself the night before. Dora had a sinking feeling about this. She slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the police. Something did not feel right about this.
                    After almost 10 minutes had passed, Dylan had his answer. Myrtle wasn't coming to him. He watched Dora on the porch of the house across the street out of his peripheral vision. He didn't want to tip her off that he knew she was there. He watched her as she looked toward him and then looked toward the second house down the street where the others were standing. He knew that Myrtle and Evan were still standing outside getting information from Dora. He saw her trying to hide the fact that she was on the phone. She was probably calling the cops. He was going to have to act fast.
                    Dylan got up from his perch on the top step of Myrtle's house and walked back down the gravel path to his car parked by the curb. Once on the curb, he made a sharp turn and headed down the sidewalk rehearsing what he was going to say to Myrtle before he did what he'd come here to do. Dora's eyes widened, the subject was on the move.
                    She motioned for Evan and Myrtle to go away. They got the message and hurried into the house, quickly closing the door and scooting into the interior of the house away from the windows so as not to be seen. Dylan appeared around the corner of Engrid's house. He was closing in fast. Dora hurried off the porch, so he wouldn't come over there when they didn't answer the door. She hid, squatted behind an unkempt azalea bush and watched. The emergency dispatcher was talking in her ear. Evan and Myrtle were hiding in the kitchen, the curtains closed and the lights off.
                    The doorbell rang. Evan and his mother cast uncertain glances at each other. There was a period of silence before the doorbell rang again. They still did not respond. The doorknob rattled. It turned. Dylan pushed the door open and stepped in.
                    "Hello? Is anybody home?" He took another step, deeper into the interior.
                    "I know you're in here. Evan? Myrtle? I want to talk to you. It's important."
                    Evan whispered, "God, he's in the house. Is he crazy?"
                    Myrtle whispered back, "Yes."
                    "We need to hide better." Myrtle stated.
                    Evan pointed and tiptoed over to the pantry. The pair slid into the tiny pantry and slowly closed the door just as Dylan appeared in the kitchen doorway.
                             Myrtle couldn't imagine what was going through Dylan's head. Was this a hate crime in progress? Was he here to murder mother and son? Was he here to murder her while Evan was forced to watch? She needed to stop watching Law and Order: SVU late at night.
                    The thoughts that ran through her head were chilling. Somehow, Dylan sensed their presence. He walked around the room a few times, scanning for any signs of them. They were here, he just knew it. He took a step closer to the pantry door. Myrtle threw open the pantry door and confronted him.
                             "What do you want? Why are you here?" She demanded.
                             "Myrtle, sweetheart, don't be mad at me."
                             "Don't be mad? How dare you say that to me? I thought I was falling in love with you. How could I be so mean? You are a cruel, vicious man and I want you out of my life."
                             "Myrtle..."
                             "You heard her," Evan stated firmly, stepping forward from his mother's shadow, "Get out of my house."
                             "No," Dylan replied coldly.
                             "Dylan, you will leave my house right now," Evan's voice shook slightly, but it was firm.
                             Dylan extracted the small pistol from his jacket pocket.
                             Evan and Myrtle looked on in horror. They had trapped themselves in a corner. Dylan was between them and the door, there was no escape. Their fate was sealed. They were about to meet a gruesome end.
                             A voice boomed, "This is the police, you are surrounded! Come out with your hands up."
                             Dylan wheeled around and looked out the window. There were police in riot gear stationed in front of the bougainvillea along the side of Engrid's house. He figured there were probably some stationed out front too.
                             A profanity slipped his lips.
                             "I ought to kill you both right now!" He waved the gun around frantically.
                             Evan's cell phone jingled in his pocket.
                             "Give me that!" Dylan demanded, putting out his hand.
                             Evan slipped the phone out of his pocket and handed it over. Dylan looked at the LCD display. Dora was calling. He flipped it open.
                             "What do you want, you ^*$(@?"
                             Dora was taken aback at being called such a nasty name, but she brushed it off. "I know you're up to no good in there. You're better off just to give up now."
                             "What are you- the police negotiator?"
                             "I'm the closest you're going to get, you nasty old so and so."
                             "Well, then, I want a million dollars in unmarked bills and a helicopter."
                             She dripped with sarcasm, "I'll get right on it."
                             "I am not talking to you. I don't talk to dykes- especially nasty, saggy old ones."
                             "I'm what you've got. This is Deerfield. Everybody's got a gun but the town's a little short on negotiators. This is the land of 'shoot first and ask questions later.'"
                             "So?"
                             "So, if you plan to get out of this alive, I'd suggest you put the gun down and walk away. If you hurt Evan or Myrtle, I'll kill you myself- if it's the last thing I do." She gripped the phone and pressed it tightly to her ear, the tension evident on her furrowed brow.
                             "You're so old you'll probably drop dead anyway," Dylan hissed in reply.
                             "Possibly, but if I go out of this world, I'm taking you with me. I'll drop you off in a place a little warmer than where I'm headed."
                             "Yeah right. Everybody knows dykes and fags burn."
                             "Hmmm. I doubt it. If some do, that's not the reason why," She smiled politely, knowing that her smile transferred over the phone lines.
                             "I guess you're the expert."
                             "On some things...now, put the gun down and come out of the house."
                             "No," He said it coldly, but with less conviction than when he said it earlier.
                             "Then I guess we'll just have to come in and take it from you like a little kid's toy since you won't be an adult about this."
                             "You can't do that. I'll kill them both," His voice cracked slightly, he glanced wildly around the kitchen to see if he could tell what they were up to.
                             Just as he realized what was going on, there was an instant of shattering glass and Dylan dropped to the floor. He'd been struck in the head with a rubber bullet. It didn't kill him, but it knocked him completely unconscious.
                    Dylan lay motionless on Andrew and Evan's kitchen floor. His gun had slid across the floor to the edge of the cabinets. Evan and Myrtle stood in shock as police poured through the front door tramping on the hardwood floors and thick rugs with their heavy boots.
                    Several officers stayed in the hallway, others went room to room looking for anybody else that might be in the house, while two went into the kitchen to retrieve the perpetrator from his spot sprawled on the kitchen floor.
                    Dora took off for the door as soon as the police breached the entrance. She hurried past an officer. Dora bounded up the front steps, as fast as someone her age could and headed for the kitchen. When she appeared in the doorway, Evan and Myrtle were still hugging each other tightly, looking at what was happening in front of them.
                    As Dora came into the kitchen, a gurney appeared in the doorway and Dylan was loaded onto it and whisked away.
                    "Are you okay?" Dora asked.
                   They released the death grip they had on one another and breathed a small sigh of relief that the situation was over. Myrtle grabbed the back of a chair to lean on while Evan leaned up against the wall for support.
                             Myrtle replied, "We're fine. We're just shaken up, but we're not hurt, thankfully."
                             Dora's shoulders and forehead slackened with the relief of knowing that it was over and everyone was okay. She took a deep breath and tried to shake the tension.
                             "Do you think we should call Andrew or Engrid and let them know what happened?" Evan asked.
                             Dora thought about it for a moment, "I don't think so."
                             "Engrid would be mad if something happened and we didn't let them know."
                             "Okay," Dora conceded, "We'll call them, but we'll only say that Dylan was here but it didn't go well and he left."
                             "I guess that's technically true," Evan admitted.
                             He went into the living room and retrieved his cell phone from the end table by the sofa. His hands were still shaking as he tried to punch the buttons to call his honeydew, Andrew.
                             It went straight to voicemail. For whatever reason, his cell phone was off. He tried calling Engrid, but she didn't pick up either. Her phone rang, so it wasn't off, but she wasn't answering. Neither was answering, that was not a good sign.
                    Evan's face fell, "You don't think Dylan paid them a visit before he came here, do you?"
                    "He wouldn't have had time, he drove up just after they left." Dora said.
                    "That's good. It means he couldn't have hurt them. Unless he had help. What if a friend helped him- he came here while the other caught up with the others- that way neither group would have a chance to warn the other?"
                             "I doubt it," Dora said, "This seems more like a crime of passion; besides, he had no way of knowing what we were up to. He didn't know we were out looking for his daughter. You didn't say anything to him about it, did you Myrtle?"
                             "No. I haven't talked to him since that fiasco of a dinner party."
                             "Good. Then that means the others are fine and it's just a coincidence that they're not answering their phones."
                             "They probably just left them in the car."
                             "That wasn't smart of them, if they get into trouble, they won't be able to call for help."
                             "Do you think we should go try to find them?" Myrtle asked.
                             "No, we have no idea where they are. We're better off here until they contact us."
                   
         
         
          Chapter 9
         
         
                             Engrid and Andrew walked along the edge of Milford Park along the banks of the Saluda River, waiting to see if anyone else came along. This didn't seem like that seedy of an area, but perhaps once darkness had completely fallen, more nefarious looking characters would appear. Engrid wondered if the presence of two outsiders, clearly not homeless themselves, might be keeping people at bay.
                             "Perhaps we should come back a little later. I don't think anyone's going to come out as long as we're here," Engrid commented.
                             "I guess we could do that. I don't see anybody."
                             They turned to head back to the car when they heard footsteps. They were muffled by the soft grass, but they caught Andrew's ears. He put up his hand to gently block Engrid's return to the car.
                             "What is it?" She asked in a whisper.
                             "I hear something."
                             Engrid strained to hear what Andrew was talking about. She squinted, thinking she might see something up ahead, behind a large oak tree.
                             A voice from beside them startled both. Engrid and Andrew jumped and Engrid let out a little yelp. The man standing beside them certainly did not look homeless. He was dressed in a gray sweater and wore long black coat and black dress slacks and wing tipped shoes. His face was a little pale and drawn, his eyes dark and shadowy but otherwise a decently attractive looking man. Engrid just stared at him for a moment.
                             "May I help you with something?" He asked, not threateningly, but with an edge.
                             Andrew and Engrid were so flustered and startled, neither said anything at first. Then Andrew picked up, "I don't know. Are you familiar with the area?"
                             "Are you lost? I help lost people." He smiled, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.
                             There was something disturbing about the man. It could have been a leftover from being startled by him, but Engrid sensed something else about the man. There was something sinister about his presence.
                             "Actually, we are not lost," Engrid began, "But we know someone who is."
                             "Perhaps I can help. Who's lost?"
                             "A girl named Amanda."
                             "Amanda?" He turned the name over in his head. "I don't think I know her."
                             "Hmmm," Engrid didn't trust this guy one bit, "That's too bad."
                             "Is there anything else I can help you with?" He asked.
                             "No, no I don't believe so. That was all we wanted." Engrid started to leave. The strange man stepped in front of her and blocked her path.
                             "Please get out of my way," She smiled politely, her insides terrified and roiling.
                             "No. I don't think I will. You have no business here."
                             "Yes, we do. We must find Amanda before it's too late."
                             He smiled back, his dark eyes boring into her, "It already is."
                             Andrew looked puzzled. The man tensed. She stepped forward and demanded the man to step out of her way. It was a bold move for a little old lady half his size. Engrid's ire was up and she was done messing with this hooligan.
                    Andrew wasn't sure what was going on. Each time she demanded that he move, she took another step forward and the man backed up a step. Finally, after four times, he turned and walked back behind the tree. He didn't come back.
                             Engrid started walking towards the river.
                             "What was that about?"
                             Engrid didn't reply to him, she only kept walking.
                             "Who was that man?" Andrew mumbled to himself.
                             "I don't know, and I don't want to find out. We must hurry. He may be right about it already being too late."
                             Andrew didn't say anything else. He just followed behind her, casting glances over his shoulder to see if the eerie man was still following them. As far as he could see, there was no one there. Engrid came to a stop at a bench facing the riverfront. She turned around and stared into the darkness that had fallen since they left the Pathfinder at the top of the hill. The warmth and safety of her home seemed so far away. She longed to have this finished so she could go back there. She felt very vulnerable and unsafe out here, even if Andrew was a ju-jitsu master. What lurked out here might not be defeated by martial artistry.
                             "We've got to find her. He may have been right, it may already be too late, but we've at least got to try."
                             Andrew looked around. There were a few more people milling around down by the bridge pilings.
                             "Should we go down there?" Andrew pointed in their direction.
                             "Yes," Engrid stated simply and walked off.
                             Andrew followed her, the hard pit in his stomach tightening. The encounter with the strange man further up the hill had left him ill-at-ease. Engrid relentlessly pursued the small huddle of people.
                             A few of them looked up, noticing the approaching people. They glanced back down. Their scratchy beards and unkempt clothes were a giveaway that these were homeless people. It might be stereotypical, but truthful at the same time.
                             Engrid reached the perimeter of the group and stood quietly. Andrew came up behind her. He stood very close, to make sure that if anyone made a move to harm her, they would have to go through him first. She stood there a few more minutes, not speaking to anyone. She attempted to make eye contact but got politely rebuffed. No one was interested in idle conversation this evening.
                    She suddenly, loudly blurted out, "Amanda?"
                             Everyone looked up and stared at her. She repeated, "Amanda! Are you here?"
                             The huddle group continued to stare at Engrid. Mental illness was not uncommon in these parts, so most folks just thought she was another little old lady who'd fallen off her rocker. Amanda was probably a child or grandchild who died years ago.
                             Engrid started walking around, calling out Amanda's name. Someone stood up and approached her. "Who are you looking for, honey?"
                             Andrew stayed close behind, watching the old woman's every move.
                             "Amanda. Do you know her? Have you seen her?" Engrid asked.
                             The old woman looked sympathetic. She cooed, "I'm sure she's fine honey. Have you had anything to eat?"
                             Engrid thought about it for a moment, "No, I haven't."
                             "Well come over here. You can have the rest of my meatloaf."
                             "Oh no, no. I'll get something later. You go ahead and eat it."
                             "I've had my fill; you need it more than me."
                             Not wanting to be rude, Engrid agreed to the woman's offer. "My name is Dianne Howard. What's your name?"
                             "Engrid...Engrid Matthews."
                             "It's nice to meet you, Engrid. Who's your friend over there giving me the evil eye?"
                             "That's my friend Andrew. He helps me."
                             "How does he help you, dear?" The old woman was still talking to Engrid as if she was a little girl, not as a fellow senior citizen.
                             Engrid smiled over at Andrew. "He bails me out when I get in over my head."
                             "That's good." She patted the back of Engrid's hand, "It's nice to have someone looking out for you."
                             "Do you have anyone looking out for you?"
                             "Oh, heavens no," the woman smiled, "After my husband's cancer and funeral, I was flat broke. He was 87-years-old so he didn't have life insurance or anything like that. At that age, it was just too expensive. We didn't have any children and I'm the last surviving member of my siblings. I thought I would just die and go be with my husband and my parents and family, but so far I haven't. So far, God has seen fit to keep me here."
                             Engrid cast her eyes to the ground. This poor old woman had no one to turn to in her final years. Engrid felt guilty that she had a beautiful home, children and grandchildren, and neighbors who were like family. Her life seemed like a fulfilling dream as she was listening to Dianne's story.
                             "Aren't there shelters or things like that that you can go to?"
                             "I suppose so. They fill up early though. Lots of kids and working folks stay there. I figure they need the beds more than I do. I don't do much during the day. Come to think of it, I don't do much at night either."
                             "Where'd you get the meatloaf?"
                             "There's a soup kitchen not far from here. A bunch of churches and I think a couple of synagogues run it and provide food four or five nights a week. I go there most of the time."
                             "It's very good."
                             "I think so too. It's my favorite meal of the week. They have macaroni and cheese too, but I already ate that."
                             "I'll have to go there sometime."
                             "We can go together if you want. I stay here under this bridge pylon most of the time."
                             "I would love to, but I am looking for someone."
                             "Amanda."
                             "Yes."
                             "At first, I thought you were just another old woman with mental problems, but I see now that you're not. I have heard of a girl by that name that sometimes comes down here and sometimes she's in the railroad switchyard. She's fallen in with a bad crowd from what I hear."
                             "I've heard that too, but no one will tell me what kind of trouble she's in."
                             "I don't know either." Dianne looked out over the rippling water of the river. "Dope would be my guess. I saw her down here not too long ago. She looked bad."
                             "Bad how?"
                             "Sad. She looked pale; her face was all sunken in like she hadn't eaten in forever. She had that distant, haunted look people get in their eyes when they get burned."
                             "Burned?"
                             "By taking too many drugs. It burns your brain. Don't you remember those commercials?"
                             "What commercials?"
                             "Oh, you remember. The guy with the frying pan...he holds up an egg and says, 'this is your brain' and then he cracks it into the frying pan and says, 'this is your brain on drugs.' I know you remember those commercials. They were on TV all the time for years."
                             "Oh yes, I remember those."
                             "Well, it's not too far from the truth."
                             "I didn't think Amanda had been on the street long enough for that to happen."
                             "It doesn't take long. There's a guy who is down here a lot who gets the kids hooked on that stuff. It's not just pot, or anything like that- it's the hard stuff that nearly kills them. Then he convinces them to do all kinds of things- robbery, assault, all kinds of bad stuff."
                             "Is he dressed in a long, dark coat and a gray sweater?"
                             "Yes! How in the world did you know that?"
                             "I ran into him earlier."
                             "Oh dear. I guess that means he's here tonight."
                             "Maybe not. I think I got rid of him. He probably thinks Andrew is a cop."
                             Dianne scoffed, "There's no getting rid of him. He'll be back as soon as you leave."
                             "Hopefully not."
                             "That man is pure evil. He kills those kids just as sure as he puts a gun to their heads."
                             "I'm sure he is evil too. I hope he doesn't get anyone else addicted."
                             "He will. He can spot the easy marks. I guess that's why he's never bothered me. He knows I'll never touch dope with a ten-foot pole. I just wasn't raised that way."
                             "I'm glad of that."
                             "I don't want to fall victim to sin and miss the eternal reward. At my age, that would be like getting tackled on the one-yard line."
                             "I know the feeling," Engrid said, "You've worked hard to live a good life all your days and you don't want to throw it away at the last minute."
                             "No, I don't. I'm glad you understand. But those kids are throwing away their whole lives, Engrid. I've lived my life but they're just getting started when they get destroyed. I mean 13-14-year-old kids. How they ended up out here in the first place is beyond me."
                             "There's no telling I guess."
                             "Not really- once they get burned, who knows if they're telling the truth or not? You don't know if they're honest or crazy as they come."
                             "That's a real shame," Engrid stated, looking out over the riverbank.
                             "It is...it really is."
                             "How many people come here at night?"
                             "I don't know. This is about as big as the crowd gets. Once the shelters fill up, they come here. At least this way you get to talk to people and it's not quite so boring and lonely."
                             "I guess that's one good thing."
                             "Yeah, but groups like this tend to attract...undesirables."
                             "Like the guy in the black coat you mentioned earlier."
                             "Prime example...I have no idea what his name is or I'd report him to the police."
                             "I wish you could."
                             "But he's sneaky. He'll just appear out of nowhere. Scare you half to death. Then he disappears just as weirdly as he came."
                             "That is odd."
                             "That man's the nearest thing to a devil I've ever met." Dianne said, gently nodding her head.
                             "Where is the railroad switchyard from here?" Engrid asked.
                             "I'm not telling you."
                             "Why not?"
                             "It's even more dangerous than here. Mostly nice, decent folk stay here, the people down at the railyard are not to be messed with by the likes of you. My advice- if you really want to find her, stay here and wait for her. She'll turn up sooner or later. Hopefully..."
                             Engrid didn't like the sound of that 'hopefully.' She knew enough to know that it might be too late. She hated the thought that Amanda may already be dead...or beyond helping.
                             "I'm going to go over and talk to Andrew and maybe a couple of other folks. I'll be back in a bit," Engrid said.
                             "I'll be right here all night." Dianne replied, turning to stare off into the darkness again.
                             Engrid got up and walked over to where Andrew was standing down near the water's edge. He'd kept an ear out and made sure that Engrid stayed within earshot. Andrew was staring out at the twinkling city lights on the far side of the river. Engrid walked up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder.
                             "How late do you think we should stay?" She asked.
                             "I don't know. I called Evan to make sure everything's okay and to let him know that we're alright."
                             "Good."
                             "Anything happen on their end?" Engrid asked, watching the city lights reflected in the shimmering, rippled surface of the river.
                    "Not really. He said that Dylan came by and Myrtle sent him away. That was it."
                             "Hmm. I'm surprised he came back. I'm not sure what he expected to happen."
                             "I don't know either. Some people just can't let go." Andrew said.
                             "I suppose to a degree, we're in that category."
                             "But in a good way."
                             "That remains to be seen." Engrid said, pursing her lips.
                             Engrid looked quietly across the river too. "Apparently, there's also a rail switchyard where Amanda goes sometimes."
                             "We're not going there." Andrew informed her.
                             "I know. It's too dangerous. I agree with that."
                             "I'm glad I don't have to talk you out of it."
                             "Andrew, I don't know about this. I'm starting to have doubts."
                             "Like what?"
                             "Well, what do we expect to do when we find her? If she's as bad off as Dianne says, then we might not be able to help."
                             "We can get her the help she needs. We aren't professionals in this department, but I bet Joyce can put us in touch with a rehabilitation place that can help."
                             "That's a good point. We can do that. We can help simply by making the connection." Engrid agreed.
                             "See, there's hope after all."
                             "Unless she's already dead..."
                             "Well, then at least we tried."
                             "Small consolation..."
                             "I know."
                             "But I guess God doesn't call us to succeed, only to trust and try." Engrid said.
                             "I suppose." Andrew trailed off.
                             The pair stood in silence for a few minutes listening to the rustle of small ripples brushing over the sand of the shoreline. Somewhere off in the distance, they heard a large fish jump and splash back into the water. They were broken from their reverie by shouts from behind them.
                             "What's happened?" Engrid asked. She heard splashing from out in the river.
                             "I'm not sure." Andrew replied.
                             One of the older men came up to Andrew and said, "You've got to help, someone's jumped off the bridge."
                             "What?" Andrew was startled.
                             "Someone jumped off the bridge. Can you swim?"
                             "Yes, I can swim." Andrew said.
                    "Can you hear the splashing?"
                             "Yes."
                             "Then you'd better hurry." The man pointed out into the dark waters.
                             He heard someone yelling for help from out in the river. He kicked off his shoes and waded out into the river. Fortunately, it was a pretty slow-moving river, so the person wasn't being carried downstream very quickly. He dove in and swam as hard as he could out to the middle of the river.
                    Engrid strained, but she couldn't see what was going on out in the darkness of the river. She reached in her pocket but was dismayed to remember that she'd left her cell phone in her purse under the seat in the Pathfinder. She couldn't call the police for help, Andrew was on his own.
                             "Does anyone have a cell phone to call the police for help?" She asked.
                             No one replied. She could hear the splashing of Andrew swimming out in the water. She had to do something to help. She hurried off in the direction of the car. She took a half-dozen steps when she remembered that Andrew had the keys in his pocket. Once again, he was on his own. She looked around, she thought she heard sirens. How did the police find out what happened? Maybe someone in the on-looking crowd had a cell phone after all.
                             She went back over to the water's edge and tried desperately to see what was happening. Thanks to the twinkling lights on the far shore, Andrew was able to see the silhouette of a person further out. He was closing in fast.
                             "Swim towards the shore!" He shouted, his lithe body moving swiftly through the water.
                             The arms kept flailing and the voice was sputtering. Andrew swam harder; he was getting farther from shore and closer to running out of time. He wasn't sure how many times the person could go under before drowning.
                             Engrid stood nervously on the shore, hoping that Andrew wouldn't drown in the river trying to rescue someone. She mentally kicked herself for leaving her phone in the car.
                             Andrew reached the person and grabbed the wrists and brought the person up into a hug so he could get a firmer grasp. It was a young girl, her eyes wide with fear.
                             "I've got you!" Andrew said, beginning to paddle with his feet back towards shore. He managed to drag her out of the water and onto shore just as two paramedics made their way down the hill with their equipment in tow. One was a tall thin guy with sandy blonde hair while the other was short, chubby and wore glasses.
                             "Is she breathing?" The tall one asked.
                             "Yes, she's breathing. She's a little shaken up but she'll be fine." Andrew replied.
                             The paramedics stopped their frantic pace now that they knew she was conscious and lucid. "We should take you up to the ambulance and run some tests. You took a pretty nasty spill off that bridge. That's a long way to fall."
                             Engrid stooped down next to the girl, "Why did you fall off the bridge?"
                             "I don't know," She shivered, the October night air was crisp and the soaking wetness from the river didn't help. The bespectacled paramedic produced an orange blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He helped her stand up and walk towards the waiting ambulance. She sat down on the rear bumper.
                             "You don't know? What's the last thing you remember?" Engrid asked, putting a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.
                             "I was walking across the bridge to come here. Something happened, and I ended up in the river."
                             "What happened?" Engrid asked.
                             "I don't know. Something scared me, I guess. I don't know. It all happened so fast."
                             "It's okay now -as long as you didn't try to jump."
                             "No, I didn't. I fell. It was an accident. I swear."
                             Engrid stood up. The short paramedic sat next to her on the back of the ambulance and put his hand on her arm, "What's your name?"
                             "Amanda." She replied.
                             Engrid's eyes bugged out. "Amanda Riverside?"
                             "Yes...how did you know that?" The girl turned her head and looked amazed.
                             "We've been looking for you."
                             "Why?"
                             "Your dad told us what happened, and so we came to find you."
                             "I'm not going back home." She jerked her head away, the pain evident on her face.
                             "You don't have to," Engrid assured her, "But you shouldn't stay out here either."
                             "I don't care. Go away...all of you." She wrenched her arm away from the paramedic and tried to stand up.
                             The paramedic calmly tried to get her to lay back down, "Amanda, you need to come with us for just a few minutes. We need to run some tests to make sure you are okay."
                    She eyed them cautiously. The panic of falling off the bridge and the shock of flailing in the cold water were wearing off. Her mind had been crystal clear there for the first moments in months. Now it was starting to fog back in again.
                             "It's okay," Engrid said soothingly, "It'll be fine. You don't have to go back to your father's house if you don't want to."
                             "I'm not going there."
                             "That's okay."
                             "I'm not going with you either!" She screeched.
                             Engrid was stunned at how strongly Amanda had reacted to not going with her.
                             "But we can help you." Engrid said.
                             "No you won't! You're going to kill me- just like they are!" She pointed at the paramedics. They knew what was probably happening. She was on something.
                             "We're not going to hurt you. We only want to help you." Andrew said.
                             "You have to come with us," The tall paramedic said.
                             "No!" Amanda's scream pierced the night.
                             Engrid took a step back. Things had taken another turn for the serious. She didn't understand what was happening. Amanda was determined not to go with her or the paramedics.
                             "Can you release her into our custody after you finish your tests?"
                             "No. We can't do that now."
                             "Why not?"
                             "We have to take her to the county general detoxification center."
                             "Why?"
                             "She's on drugs- cocaine most likely, possibly some other things. We won't know for sure until we run the necessary tests."
                             "I've heard that she was on drugs." Engrid admitted.
                             "Then you should also know that we cannot release her into your custody unless you are a licensed medical professional. Are you?"
                             "No. I'm a retired math teacher."
                             "Are you?" He looked at Andrew.
                             "No. I'm an investment advisor."
                             "Then I'm sorry, but we have to take her with us. We legally cannot turn her over to you even if you were family."
                             Engrid was discontented to accept that decision, but she had no choice.
                             "Where is the detoxification center?" Andrew asked.
                             The tall paramedic turned and looked at him for a few moments. "No offense, but that's not a place for either of you. Find a comfortable place and try to get some sleep."
                             "None taken, but there's no way I can sleep until I know she's okay." Engrid said.
                             "Fine. Do you have a car?" He asked.
                             "Yes."
                             "Then you can follow us. Come on, Amanda." He gently ushered her further into the interior or the ambulance, but she turned aside from him. There were a few misty tears forming on the corners of her eyes. She pulled free and jumped off the back of the ambulance. She stumbled at first, but quickly regained her balance and took off running. The paramedics gave chase. She flew up the hill with the speed of a panicked jackrabbit. She sailed almost effortlessly around benches, trees, and other homeless people coming to stake their claim to riverfront property. The paramedics were losing ground.
                    Two paramedics in their 40's were no match for a lithe 15 year-old with narcotic stimulants in her system. Engrid was even slower than they were. Andrew took the lead in the pursuit of Amanda. The look of sheer, unadulterated panic in her eyes made Engrid's spine tingle. She had no idea what was going on inside that young girl's mind.
                    Andrew ran faster. Amanda ran faster. She kept looking over her shoulder to keep track of her assailants. She was convinced that they were going to kill her. She kept running. In her mind, she was running for her life. Andrew was gaining on her. Engrid was falling further behind, her elderly legs tiring of the uphill battle through the heavily wooded park.
                    The rough natural landscape with exposed roots, rocks and uneven ground was a broken bone or sprained ankle waiting to happen. She stopped altogether and put her hand up against a tree to steady herself. She watched Andrew vanishing into the distant darkness.
                    She thought she heard a dark voice in the night say, "I told you it was too late." She started moving again, she wasn't succumbing to some unknown voice. She just wouldn't let that happen. Amanda's life depended on them not giving up on her.
                    Amanda looked back over her shoulder and tripped over a tree root sticking out of the ground. She fell fast and hard onto the ground. The soft grass lessened the blow, but it still stunned her. She tried to get up, but Andrew was close enough to pounce. He tackled her back to the ground before she could get her feet under herself again.
                    She wiggled and writhed, trying to escape her would-be murderer. While she was fast and agile, Andrew beat her in brute strength. He managed to hold her down until the paramedics were able to inject some sort of tranquilizer into her system. The writhing and wrenching slowed as the drugs took their effect.
                    By the time Engrid arrived on the scene, Amanda was already out cold. They were only about twenty yards from the street. Engrid sought the refuge of a bench at a nearby bus stop. She flopped, exhausted, onto the bench and stared off into space. The whole energy expenditure of the evening was taxing on her weary bones.
                    As the paramedics were attending to the now unconscious Amanda Riverside, Andrew joined Engrid on the bus stop bench.
                    "I guess we have to go to the detoxification center," Engrid said, "But I'm so tired all I want to do is go home and go to bed."
                   "I'm taking you home. We've done all we can tonight. The doctors and nurses at the detoxification center can take better care of her than we ever could."
                   "But she should have someone besides a medical professional there when she wakes up."
                    "I'm sure they have a chaplain. Engrid, we've done everything we can."
                    "We didn't really do anything."
                    Andrew sat silently for a few moments. Then he spoke, "Yes we did. We saved that girl's life tonight."
                    "How?"
                    "We rescued her from the river...then we caught up with her, so the paramedics could do their thing. Neither of those things would have happened if we weren't here. She probably would have drowned in the river and even if she got out, she would have outrun the paramedics and who knows where she'd be now if it wasn't for us."
                    "So, you did a lot. I'm just a fat old woman who didn't do diddly squat."
                    "Perhaps I contributed to the effort, but I wouldn't have been anywhere near here if it weren't for you. I may have done the physical part, but you're the one who made it possible."
                    Engrid pondered that for a moment, "I guess you're right. We did what we came here to do. Now, let's go home and get some sleep."
                    "I think that's a great idea. How about I drive us home?"
                    Engrid nodded, utter exhaustion setting in as the adrenaline wore off. She took a deep breath and stood up. She shuffled over to the Pathfinder and crawled into her seat. She stared silently out of the car window as they drove down the quiet, deserted streets of midnight Columbia heading toward Deerfield and their safe, warm, comfortable beds.
         
         
                    He dropped her off at her house and then coasted down to his own driveway and parked. Evan was sitting on the porch swing as Andrew came up the stone pathway from the driveway to the base of the steps.
                    "So, what happened? Last I heard you were standing by a river talking to homeless people. Were you able to find her?"
                    Andrew sat wearily on the swing.
                    "Yes. We found her. She's at the county detoxification center now. She'll be okay, I hope."
                    Evan put his arm around Andrew's hunched shoulders, "I really didn't think you'd find her. That's great."
                    "She kind of found us...in a roundabout way." Andrew said cryptically.
                    "What do you mean?"
                    Andrew recounted the whole story of Amanda falling off the bridge, rescuing her from the river, chasing her and having the paramedics take her away.
                    "Before you go inside, there's something I need to tell you. If I don't, I won't be able to sleep."
                    "What's that?"
                    Evan paused, weighing his words, "Well, remember how I told you that Dylan came by and mom sent him away?"
                    "Yes."
                    "Well, there's more to the story than that."
                    Evan proceeded to recount the story about Dylan and the gun and the rubber bullet and the swat team. Once he finished regaling Andrew with his brush with death, the two men just sat in shocked silence.
                    Andrew took Evan's hand in his and they continued to sit quietly in that porch swing. They'd both had a rough day and all either wanted was to sit on the porch swing and be comforted by one another's presence.
         
         
          Chapter 10
                    The following morning, Engrid sat in her kitchen leafing through the morning paper and sipping her coffee. The bright morning light streamed through her kitchen window and illuminated the newsprint text. The toast was good, smothered with her homemade peach preserves she'd made over the summer. The doorbell interrupted her morning routine.
                    She opened the door and it was Rev. Creighton, her bright red hair and fair complexion looked concerned as she stood on the porch. She was a youthful, mid-thirties pastor of the Oak Grove Presbyterian Church where Engrid was a member and pianist.
                    "My goodness, Michelle, what brings you around this morning?"
                    "Well, Engrid, I got an unusual phone call last night and I wanted to follow-up with you."
                    "Oh...from whom?"
                    "Someone named Dylan Riverside. He says you two know each other. I asked if it was okay if I spoke with you about what he said, and he gave me permission."
                    "Oh," Engrid replied flatly, "Him."
                    "I take it you know him."
                    "I know him. I can't say we're friends, or even acquaintances, but I'm aware of who he is."
                    "Okay," Michelle furrowed her brow, "May we talk inside?"
                    "Yes, that's fine. Let's go into the kitchen, I've got coffee and toast with some plum jam that Andrew made."
                    "That sounds great."
                    The two women sat down in Engrid's kitchen. Engrid presented the reverend with toast and fresh coffee and sat across from her at the table.
                    "So, what did Dylan want to talk to you about?" Engrid smiled, uncertain of what was about to happen.
                    "Well, he had some interesting things to say. He says that you threatened him."
                    "Threatened him?" Engrid looked incensed, "I did nothing of the sort."
                    "I figured as much, but he says that you threatened to hurt him and his daughter if he didn't stop seeing Myrtle. Now, I'm not making any judgments, I just want to know what happened from your perspective. He sounded genuinely upset and I just want to find out what's going on so I can help."
                    "Well, Michelle, I can assure you that I never, ever threatened Dylan. I have never threatened anybody in my life."
                    "So, you met him at Myrtle's house yesterday?"
                    "Actually, it was two days ago, but yes, we met at Myrtle's house. Myrtle had Evan, Andrew, Dora, Dylan, and me over to dinner to introduce us to him, and him to us. He was a prospective boyfriend of hers."
                    "How did that go?"
                    "Not well. Not well at all."
                    "What do you mean? What happened at the dinner party?"
                    "It turns out that he threw his fifteen-year-old daughter out of the house for being a lesbian. Then he turned and started making a fuss accusing me and Dora of being lesbians, if you can imagine such a thing! I love Dora like she was my own sister, but we've never even thought of each other in 'that' way. Then he called Evan and Andrew every vulgar name for gay in the book. Then he stormed out. That was the last I saw of him. Andrew said that he talked to Evan on the phone last night and Dylan came by his house while Myrtle was there, but Myrtle wouldn't talk to him and he left. That's really all I know, Michelle. I don't know if that matches up with what Dylan said, but that's the truth as far as I know it."
                    "Okay. I've known you for years, Engrid, so I trust you and I believe you."
                    "Just out of sheer morbid curiosity, what did Dylan say that I said?"
                    Michelle shook her head. "It's not important. Obviously, he was upset. Myrtle must have told him at some point what church you belong to and so he called me trying to start trouble for you. It won't work. I've been a minister long enough to know when someone's trying to use me to get someone else in trouble and I'm not going to let that happen."
                    "Good. I'm glad."
                    "Do you know where Dylan is?"
                    "No. I know about where he lives, but I don't know where he is right now.
                    "Why?"
                    "When he called last night, my caller ID said he was calling from the county jail. Does he work at the jail?"
                    "I don't know where he works. He lives in Columbia in a huge mansion of a house, and he drives a little green sports car. So, I doubt he works at the Deerfield County Jail."
                    "Hmm. I guess he must be an inmate there."
                    "He must have recently got arrested because he came over to Evan and Andrew's yesterday around 6:00, according to Evan. I haven't talked to Myrtle or Evan about it, so I'm not sure what happened other than he showed up."
                    "I wonder why in the world he would call me then."
                    "Like you said, he just wants to start trouble."
                    "That's too bad. The five of you are such good people, I'd hate for anyone to stir up trouble for you."          
                    "People do that sometimes. I met him and I don't think he's that stable. He went from being polite and sweet to ranting and raving in a matter of seconds."
                    "Oh." Rev. Creighton sat back in her chair.
                    "Well, hopefully he'll get his head on straight soon."
                    "I hope so. Anyway, I've bugged you long enough. I've got to get over to the church."
                    "I'll be there in a bit too. I'm glad you stopped by."
                    "You're welcome. I just wanted to get this cleared up before church started in case he showed up. This way, if he does, I'll know what's going on."
                    "I hope if he does come, he won't stir up trouble. I would hate for that to happen. It would be an embarrassment for everyone."
                    "Yes, it would...well I'd better get going!" Rev. Creighton stood to leave.
                    "Okay. See you in a little while."
                    Reverend Creighton let herself out of the front door as Engrid finished up her coffee and went upstairs to get dressed for church.
                    Clad in her green slacks and matching flats and a white blouse with little green flowers on it and a matching blazer, she drove over to the church to warm up her fingers for the morning's hymn selection.
                    As that little old lady drove to church that bright, sunny Sunday morning, little did she know the trouble that was about to start. Her mind was focused on helping lead the church service at Oak Grove Presbyterian Church, not on the hornet's nest that had been stirred up with Dylan.
                    Dylan didn't know that they'd helped his daughter. He'd been angry so he called the minister at Engrid's church to make accusations against her because he didn't know what else to do. Afterwards, he went to sleep in his jail cell. At 6:30, he'd demanded to be allowed to call home to check his messages. The deputy decided that was okay.
                    So, Dylan checked his messages. There was one from Amanda. She'd left it about 4:30 in the morning. She was crying and distraught. She cried and wailed about how she'd been kidnapped and that she was going to be killed. She cried and cried and described through her blubbering tears the young man and the old woman that chased her through the park. Dylan knew instantly who they were.
                    She described the young one as having black hair - so it couldn't have been Myrtle's son, he was blonde, so it had to be the other one. The elderly woman was 'chubby' so it must be Engrid; the other one was almost gaunt. That made him royally mad. Even though he'd thrown her out, no one had better mess with this little girl. Hearing her desperate, pleading voice on the other end of the line made every crumb of paternal instinct come rushing forth.
                    Unfortunately, his little tussle yesterday had landed him in jail. If he was going to kill anybody now, it was going to be that old busy body and her little boy sidekick. He just had to get out of jail.
         
         
                    Engrid was humming as she pulled into the church yard. She knew she'd done a good deed for Amanda. It had been difficult, and she wasn't sure what she could do from this point, but she was glad she was able to intervene to at least get her some help. She was early, as usual because she liked to practice a bit before the other congregants arrived. She unlocked the door and went inside.
         
         
                    Meanwhile, Dylan sat in his jail cell plotting her demise. Attempted murder was going to be a tough charge to overcome, especially since the police witnessed it and ended up taking him down with a rubber bullet. He realized he would probably be in jail for a very, very long time. He just had to figure out a way to escape. He had to act fast. Amanda didn't have much time before those loathsome people killed her. He looked around the cell to see if he could come up with some sort of a plan. He paced back and forth like a caged animal. His mind fumed and raced, believing that his daughter was in mortal danger.
                    This was a small-town jail; he had not been transferred to the prison yet. His best chance of escape was from here. He sprang into action.
                    "Hey! Hey!" He yelled out, jumping up from the bed and rattling the bars.
                    A guard appeared in the doorway to the cell block, "What do you want?"
                    "I need you to do something for me."
                    "No." He turned back to leave.
                    "Wait! Wait! Someone has kidnapped my daughter, you have to help me!"
                    "What?" The officer looked incredulous.
                    "Give me a phone. She left me a message on my home phone last night."
                    The officer eyed him suspiciously. The panic in the man's eyes made him believe him. The officer went and got a portable handset and gave it to Dylan. Dylan punched in the numbers, went through the voice prompts, and handed the phone over to the officer. He held it in his hand, listening to the message. His face paled as her fearful cries came through the phone speaker.
                    "My God...do you have any idea where she's being held?"
                    "I don't know. I think I know who's responsible."
                    "Who?"
                    "Two people who live on Maple Ave. An old woman named Engrid and a young guy...I think his name was Andrew."
                    "Engrid Matthews?"
                    "Yes! Yes...that's her. She's evil...she and that guy kidnapped my little girl and they're going to kill her if we don't stop them."
                    The policeman just stood in stunned silence. "I can't believe that Engrid would be mixed up in something like that. She's the sweetest little old lady you could ever meet."
                    "She seems that way. But under those white curls lurks the mind of a serial killer. And since she's too old and frail, she recruited that Andrew guy to do the dirty work for her. You heard Amanda! They chased her through the park in Columbia and drugged her. I'll bet they've got her tied up in a basement somewhere."
                    The guard ran to the front of the station to the front desk were Payson Flores was on duty While Payson had known Engrid all his life, as did many people in Deerfield, Amanda's frightened pleas and physical descriptions added weight to Dylan's story.
                    "Hold on a minute." He walked into the other room.
                    "Jimmy, call Engrid."
                    "Why?"
                    "Just ask her where she was last night."
                    "She's probably already at church right now. She plays the piano in that little Presbyterian church out on Highway 10."
                    "Call Myrtle Grayson, she might know where Engrid was last night."
                    "Okay Payson, I'll call her and ask."
                    He picked up the phone and dialed Myrtle's number. She was dressing for church and picked up the phone extension in her bedroom.
                    "Hello?"
                    "Hello, Mrs. Grayson, this is Jimmy Behr down at the police station."
                    "Yes, Jimmy, what's the matter?"
                    "Do you know where Engrid was last night?"
                    "She and Andrew went to Columbia."
                    "What were they doing there?"
                    "They were looking for a girl named Amanda. She was in a lot of trouble. She's Dylan's daughter, the man you guys arrested yesterday at Evan's house."
                    "So, they were in Columbia looking for Mr. Riverside's daughter?"
                    "That's correct."
                    "Do you know if they found her?"
                    "I don't know. They came back around midnight last night and I haven't talked to them since then. Is everything okay, Jimmy?"
                    "I'm not sure," he answered honestly, "Thank you Mrs. Grayson, that's all for now."
                    "Okay, Jimmy. Have a nice day."
                    "I will, you too Mrs. Grayson." He hung up the phone, totally taken aback at the recent revelations about Engrid and her neighbors on Maple Avenue.
                    "Payson! Payson! Get in here, now!"
                    Payson ran into the room from an adjacent office.
                    "What's the matter?"
                    "We need to question Engrid and Andrew. NOW!"
                    "What did Myrtle say?"
                    "That Engrid and Andrew did go to Columbia and they went looking for Mr. Riverside's daughter, Amanda."
                    Payson's eyes bugged out, "Holy crap! What should we do?"
                    Jimmy sat down in an office chair to think for a minute. "We need to find Andrew and Engrid. We need to find out what happened to Amanda. I hope it's not too late."
                    "We're just a couple of keeping-the-peace police. I don't know how to investigate kidnappings and possible homicides. We should call the state law enforcement. They would know what to do."
                    Jimmy picked up the receiver.
                    "Hello? State Law Enforcement Division? Yes, this is Jimmy Behr, I'm in Deerfield and we have a situation on our hands. Yes...yes... we have a possible kidnapping and attempted murder. We don't know for sure, but we have some accusations and we need help investigating the allegations."
                    After a brief discussion, he hung up the phone.
                    "So?" Payson asked, "Are they going to help?"
                    "Yes. They are sending agents now to start the investigation."
                    Payson went back into the cell block.
                    "Mr. Riverside, we have called the State Law Enforcement Division and they are sending agents to investigate your daughter's kidnapping."
                    "Oh, thank goodness," Dylan breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back on his bunk.
                    "We'll keep you apprised of what's going on."
         
         
                    Meanwhile, Andrew opened his eyes. He smelled the scent of fresh pancakes and bacon floating through the air. He could hear Evan downstairs shuffling through the kitchen preparing breakfast. It was a lovely sunny morning and they would soon be departing to join Engrid at church.
                    "Are you coming down to eat? It's getting late. We need to leave soon!" Evan called up the stairs, "You said you wanted to go get some things out of your storage unit before we head over to the church."
                    He rolled out of bed and quickly changed into church clothes and went downstairs. Evan was wrapping up cleaning the dishes as Andrew came bounding through the door and sat down at the table.
                    "I'm glad you decided to join the land of the living!" Evan grinned.
                    "It wasn't my decision. The aroma of your cooking is too enticing to resist."
                    "You don't have to butter me up, if it's verbal consent you're after, you have it."
                    "I'm ready to butter up those pancakes."
                    "Well they're ready for you."
                    He handed over the pancakes and sat down to join Andrew.
                    As the two were eating their breakfast and Engrid was plinking away on the church piano warming up, state law enforcement officers were racing towards Deerfield to solve a mysterious kidnapping and to prevent a nefarious murder plot.
         
         
                    Evan sat in the passenger's seat of Andrew's Pathfinder as they went over to the self-storage unit he'd rented. Rev. Creighton had mentioned an interest in the history of Latin America after finding out about Andrew's background as the son of missionaries in Brazil. He'd told her a bit about the history of the country and told her that he had a few books on the subject. He'd offered to bring them to the church and lend them to her.
                    Neither man noticed an old green Cadillac keeping a safe distance behind them. A pale, drawn face in a black turtleneck drove behind them, watching where they went. He'd heard Andrew and Engrid give their contact information to the paramedics. From there, it was easy to find their house. He had a plan to get Andrew and Engrid out of his way forever.
                    They arrived and rolled up the metal garage-style door and clicked on a light.
                    "Geesh, Andrew," Evan said, "I'm glad you keep house better than you keep a self-storage unit."
                    "A smart mouth like that could get a fellow in trouble." Andrew said, grinning.
                    Evan was so cute in his church sweater and khakis. If there was more than a small office chair in the corner, he and Evan could end up being late for church. Here was no way he was going to get his clothes messed up on that dirty floor. Evan could see the wheels of Andrew's dirty mind whirling.
                    "No." Evan said preventatively, "We need to get the books and get going. I'm supposed to be there in ten minutes."
                    "Fine," Andrew said biting his lip."
         
         
                    The law enforcement officers pulled to a stop in front of the police station.
                    They went inside. "This is Agent Richard Senson and I am Agent Carl Mortar. We're here from the State Law Enforcement Division."
                    Agent Senson was a tall, lanky Swede with short, dirty blonde hair. His face was narrow and always stricken with a severe expression. The deep lines and recesses of his face meant many years of weighing heavy, life-or-death options. He was quiet and was the sort of person no one messed with. He may not talk much, but when he did, people listened, or heads rolled.
                    Carl Mortar was shorter, Napoleonic, and dead set to catch the bad guys. He had a tendency to be hot headed in contrast to the even keeled, 'let's see what's happening first' attitude of his comrade. It was evident that Agent Mortar did most of the talking while Agent Senson did most of the thinking.
                    "Thanks for coming, I'm Police Chief Mark Piper, this is Sergeant Jimmy Behr and Sergeant Payson Flores."
                    "It's good to meet you," Mark said, "So, the situation is this. We have Dylan Riverside in custody. He was arrested yesterday after a stand-off with our police force. He forced entry into the home of Andrew Garrison. He pulled a gun and threatened to kill Evan Grayson and his mother Myrtle Grayson. The police were phoned by a next-door neighbor, Dora Murchison. After a brief stand-off with negotiators, Mr. Riverside was taken down with a rubber bullet shot through the kitchen window. Then, this morning, Mr. Riverside was allowed to check his messages and he received a telephone call from his daughter at 4:30 this morning. Our Sergeant Flores listened to the message and the daughter was very distressed claiming that she had been kidnapped and she described her kidnappers. The description fits two people - Andrew Garrison, the owner of the house Mr. Riverside forced entry into yesterday and his neighbor Engrid Matthews. We followed up by calling Mrs. Grayson who confirmed that Mrs. Matthews and Mr. Garrison went to Columbia last night and that they were looking for Miss Riverside. All this led us to believe that this is a credible threat to Miss Riverside's safety. That's why we called you."
                    "Okay. It does sound like we have a credible threat here. We will take over from this point," Agent Mortar stated, eager to get the chase underway.
                    "What are you going to do?" Chief Piper asked.
                    "We are going to go to Mr. Garrison's and Mrs. Matthews' homes and interview them. We will also get search warrants for their homes. We need to find out if Miss Riverside is there or we might be able to get clues as to where she is. We need to act fast. With kidnappings like this, we have very little time to get to the bottom of it."
                    "We'll let you know if we find anything," Agent Senson turned to leave the room.
         
         
                    By the time the search warrants were obtained, it was 12:15 and Rev. Creighton was wrapping up her sermon on why forgiveness is healing for the person doing the forgiving. As Engrid prepared to play the last hymn, police cars were racing through the streets of Deerfield in route to her home. Andrew and Evan stood next to each other as the final hymn began. Outside their homes, police cars screeched to a halt.
                    The agents ran up the steps and banged on the door.
                    "Mrs. Matthews! This is the State Law Enforcement Division. Open this door!"
                    They got no response. After a few more attempts, they kicked open the door and stormed in. It was the quiet interior of a little old lady's house. There was vegetable soup in the slow cooker, and the oven timer had been set, and the smell of macaroni and cheese casserole wafted through the air. There was nothing out of the ordinary. They couldn't find a basement or dungeon of any kind. They set up a perimeter and put up crime scene tape around both houses. This was serious business.
         
         
                    Rev. Creighton dismissed her congregation with her customary benediction from Numbers 6:24-26 and everyone filed out. There was the typical after church conversations. Engrid followed the boys out of the parking lot and headed home. It was going to be a typical Sunday afternoon lunch at Engrid's house.
                    As they turned onto Maple Avenue, they came to a sudden stop. The Pathfinder stopped dead in its tracks. Engrid craned her neck and saw what Evan and Andrew had already seen. Evan and Andrew got out of the car and walked towards the police barricades.
                    "What's going on?" Andrew asked, the panic already rising in his throat.
                    "Sir, step away from the house. This is an official police investigation." Payson stated.
                    "What on earth are you investigating?"
                    "I'm not at liberty to say."
                    Agent Mortar approached them, "Are you Andrew Garrison?"
                    "I am," Andrew stepped forward, "Who are you?"
                    "My name is Carl Mortar, SLED agent." He waved his badge at them.
                    "That wouldn't happen to be Engrid Matthews coming up behind you, would it?"
                    "Yes, that's Engrid. Why won't somebody explain to me what's going on here?"
                    "We have a lot to discuss."
                    "Did something happen with Dylan? He was arrested in our house yesterday." Andrew said.
                    "It involves him, yes."
                    Engrid said, "I would take what he says with a grain of salt. He called our minister last night making all kinds of wild accusations against us. It was her professional opinion that he is just angry and trying to cause trouble for the three of us."
                    "Your minister's name is Michelle Creighton, correct?"
                    "Yes."
                    "We are currently trying to bring her in for questioning too. Since Mr. Riverside called her, that makes her part of the situation."
         
         
                    The Reverend Michelle Creighton coasted her green Prius towards her driveway, noticing the dark, unmarked sedan with two strange men sitting in it. She was still unnerved by the nocturnal call the night before. She decided to keep driving. Being a relatively young woman, she was well aware of safety issues and crime could happen any time, whether it was Saturday night or Sunday morning.
                    The stern, authoritarian look of the men unnerved her even further. She slowly drove past them and past her small, three-bedroom bungalow about three miles from the church. She kept her eyes straight ahead, hoping that they did not notice that she saw them. Perhaps they would think she was just another passing motorist, nothing more.
                    Her eyes widened as she approached the stop sign at the end of the street and noticed the navy-blue sedan pull away from the curb, make a U-turn, and was now approaching from behind her. They were after her. The young pastor was panic-stricken. She was being followed. She drove faster, they kept pace. She made unexpected turns without signaling. They were still behind her. They were definitely following her. What should she do? She wasn't trained to lose a tail. They didn't teach a course in seminary on how to ditch stalkers or lead a car chase.
                    She drove as quickly as she dared down the street. Suddenly, another dark sedan pulled in front of her, blocking her path. She slammed on the brakes and her little green Prius skidded to stop just inches from the side of the car. The original blue sedan pulled to a stop behind her. She was trapped. She whipped out her cell phone to call the police.
                    A man jumped out of the car in front of her and pulled out a gun.
                    "Shut off the engine and get out of the car."
                    Michelle's eyes bugged out. There was no way she was getting out of the car. She shook her head firmly.
                    "Ma'am get out of the car, we are with the State Law Enforcement Division."
                    He produced a badge and held it up against the car window. She squinted and tried read the print. She pulled her reading glasses from the mop of red hair atop her head and perched them on the bridge of her nose. She'd never seen a police officer badge up close, so she really wasn't sure what she was looking for, other than official looking text. She still wasn't going to trust the four, gun-toting men who now surrounded her gas-electric hybrid automobile. She slowly cracked open the window.
                    "What do you need?" She stammered.
                    "You are not in any trouble; we only need to ask you a few questions."
                    "You should have called. You scared the living daylights out of me."
                    "Do you know Engrid Matthews and/or Andrew Garrison?"
                    "Yes. Engrid is a member of my church. Andrew is a frequent visitor. He's new to town. Engrid's lived here forever and a day. Why?"
                    "What do you know about their recent activities?"
                    Michelle blinked, "Is this in regard to the phone call I received last night?"
                    "Depends...what was the phone call about?"
                    "It was from a man named Dylan. He called me from the county jail. He was making all kinds of wild accusations against Engrid and Andrew. I'm not inclined to believe any of it."
                    "Why not?"
                    "I went to Engrid's house this morning to ask her about it and she told me that she had done nothing of the sort. She said that she turned his daughter Amanda over to some paramedics who took her to the county detoxification center in Columbia. That's really all I know about it."
                    "So, she denies being part of any kidnapping plot?"
                    "Yes. I've known Engrid for years; she's not the type of person to get mixed up in something like that."
                    The men conferred quietly, leaving Michelle to wonder what they were discussing.
                    They returned. "Do not leave town. We may have more questions." With that, they jumped in their cars and sped away.
                    Michelle's hands were still shaking when she pulled into her driveway. What on earth were her congregation members up to? It must be a very serious accusation to bring in the State Law Enforcement Division. They only got called out on the most major of cases. Maybe she'd been misjudging Engrid and she had a much darker heart than she'd ever imagined.
                    The SLED officers reported back to base.
                    "We had a brief encounter with the Rev. Michelle Creighton. She tried to evade us and we had to bring in back-up to stop her for questioning. She seemed jumpy and ill-at-ease during the interview. We suspect that she may in some way be involved. We should put surveillance up at the church in case that is where Miss Riverside is being held captive. It is a pretty ingenious plot to keep her in a church. We might never have thought to look there if Mr. Riverside had not contacted the minister."
                    To the police, this plot was becoming thicker and thicker. People one would never suspect were being implicated in a despicable plot to kidnap and murder a teenage girl.
                    Engrid sat in her living room, being questioned by the SLED agents. She maintained that Amanda had been transported to the county detoxification center. This information was relayed to the base that placed a phone call to the county detoxification center to verify.
                    "Agent Mortar, we took in several young women that night, but we were unable to make positive identifications of several. They were not coherent enough to provide truthful identification and they did not carry any identification on their person. It is possible that this Miss Riverside was among them, but there's no way to be sure. Three of them checked themselves out this morning. We were never able to complete ID checks on them. I wish I could be of more help."
                    Base reported back to the on-scene agents questioning Engrid.
                    "Mrs. Matthews, we just spoke with the detoxification center and they report that no one with that name came in on the night in question."
                    "But that's impossible. The paramedics specifically said that's where they were taking her. Maybe they took her to one of the hospitals."
                    "We already checked there. We've also checked the morgue. There is no one in all of the midlands of South Carolina by the name of Amanda Riverside receiving medical treatment of any kind, including behavioral health and substance abuse rehabilitation."
                    "But that's impossible...unless she checked herself out."
                    Agent Mortar leveled his eyes at Engrid, "Mrs. Matthews, why don't you just cut the innocent act? We have strong evidence including a message from Miss Riverside herself to her father that someone fitting your description kidnapped her and planned on killing her. The fact that you were in Columbia that night for the purpose of seeking out Miss Riverside for whatever reason has been established by the testimony of Mrs. Myrtle Grayson. Her son, Mr. Evan Grayson, confirmed that you and Mr. Garrison went to Columbia that night looking for Miss Riverside. We also know that you have strong, negative feelings towards Mr. Riverside because of some accusations he made against you and Mr. Garrison regarding your sexual proclivities."
                    Engrid gritted her teeth against such absurdity. She stated, sarcastically, "Mr. Riverside came into Mr. Garrison's house wielding a gun and tried to murder Mr. and Mrs. Grayson. Doesn't that somehow make his testimony less credible? He's in jail for attempted murder and yet you believe his testimony over mine and that of three other people who are law-abiding, upstanding members of the community."
                    "What about the phone call from Miss Riverside?" Agent Mortar retorted.
                    "What about it?"
                    "Why shouldn't we believe her testimony?"
                    "She's a drug addict."
                    "So, now you are slandering the person making the accusation?"
                    "Oh good Lord, she's slandering me and you don't seem concerned. She's accusing me of kidnapping and attempted murder...and you're going along with it."
                    "We also have physical evidence," Mortar said, a self-satisfied smile creeping across his face.
                    Engrid just sat stunned. "Like what?"
                    "We found a piece of mail in the trash at Mr. Garrison's residence. It is addressed to Miss Riverside. Mr. Riverside claims you stole it from his house. We circulated a photograph of the two of you and several neighbors reported you in the area last week. In fact, a neighbor says she believes that Mr. Garrison took something from the front porch of the house, but she wasn't certain. That would make sense that that is when he took the piece of mail...which is, in itself, illegal."
                    Engrid just stared out the window. She didn't know what else to say. She wrung her hands as her mind spun trying to figure out a way to adequately explain herself.
                    "So, Mrs. Matthews, you must forgive us for being a little suspicious of your recent activities. We believe we have a fairly strong case against you and Mr. Garrison."
                    "You don't have anything." Engrid spat angrily, the fear and desperation evident, "All you have are the ravings of a drug addict and a would-be murderer. I wouldn't call that a strong case." Engrid folded her arms across her chest and glared out of the living room window at the side of Andrew's house.
                    Carl Mortar stood tall over Engrid's diminutive frame. She continued to stare out of the window, her mind now a frenzied blank. The shock and gravity of what was transpiring around her began to dawn on her. She was in serious trouble.
                    Being questioned in his own house, Andrew long ago came to that same conclusion. The question now was...how to get out of it.
          Chapter 11
         
         
                    Dylan sat in his jail cell. He'd had time to think through what had happened in the last couple of days. He had some regrets, including pulling a gun on two people...but mostly he was fuming. Fuming that he was in jail because of those people. Fuming that his daughter was out there on the street doing who knows what with who knows who.
                    It was getting late and the slant of light from the approaching dusk filtered in through the small window at the top of the wall at the back of his cell. Dylan looked up at it wistfully. How had this all happened? He wasn't a bitter man by nature. How could he have done these things? What drove him to throw his own daughter out of the house? What possessed him to go to someone's house and threaten to kill the occupants?
                    Guilt was vying with anger for the foremost emotion in his mind. Dylan paced back and forth in his cell, running his fingers through his thick black hair and thinking about what to do. Being in jail was boring. Knowing that his daughter was out there somewhere in the approaching darkness was frightening and torturous. The frightened, panicky boredom closed in on him. He paced faster.
                    "Hey!" he shouted.
                    "What?" The guard on duty grumbled in response.
                    "Have they found her?"
                    "Not yet," he replied.
                    "What's taking so long?"
                    "I don't know."
                    Dylan fell silent. His daughter, his precious Amanda was missing...taken...by those monsters!
         
         
                    "Well," Agent Carl Mortar began, "Mrs. Matthews, we are finished here this evening. We are continuing our investigation, so do not leave town."
                    He raised his hand and motioned towards the door. His entourage of agents filed out of Engrid's house. She looked around- confused by their sudden departure after endless hours of interrogation and accusations. She hopped up and walked over to the window and watched the cars disappear into the radiant gold of an October evening. The lights were on at Andrew's house, but the agents had already left there.
                    She wandered around her living room, her nerves still jangled by the events of the day, but the stress of the interrogation had taken its toll and Engrid realized she was immeasurably tired. But she had to keep going. The police were convinced of her guilt, so she must clear her own name before this got any more out of hand. She slipped on a light jacket and headed out of the door. She started towards her car but then shifted directions towards Andrew and Evan's house.
                    The pair was sitting on the porch staring out at the nothing, the exhaustion evident on their faces as Engrid came up the steps and stopped on the porch. She paced between the front door and the top of the steps, facing the swing.
                    "Andrew, what are we going to do?" Engrid said.
                    "I don't know." Andrew admitted.
                    "They think we're guilty as sin...we have to find Amanda and prove that we're not."
                    "We can't. If we go find her, the police will claim that we knew all along where she was and that we led them right to her. I'm convinced that's why they left; they're watching us to see if we lead them to her. If they find her and Amanda sticks to her story, we're as good as electrocuted. At least I am...you'll probably be dead before the 10 years of litigation and appeals are finished and they finally get around to zapping us."
                    "What are we going to do?" Engrid asked, her voice a crescendo from anxiety and panic.
                    "At first, I thought it would be best to stay put since we're innocent. Then it dawned on me that this is going to hit the news tomorrow- if not the 11:00 news tonight. If that happens, Amanda is even more likely to be found and more likely to stick to her story. This means we are in serious trouble." Andrew explained.
                    "So...she may have been so strung out when she called her father, she may not even realize she has a story. She probably has no earthly idea any of this is happening."
                    Andrew paused... "I hadn't thought of it like that."
                    "What were you going to suggest?" Engrid asked.
                    "That we get out of here."
                    Engrid just looked at him, surprised. She stammered, "I'm not running."
                    "We have to. They think we're guilty, soon everybody in America will think we are guilty. It will be all over the news. It will be impossible for us to get a fair trial anywhere."
                    "All the more reason we need to talk to Amanda." Engrid insisted, "You aren't thinking clearly, Andrew. Running will only make us look guiltier."
                    "Andrew - do not run. I agree with Engrid. That is the worst possible thing you could do."
                    Andrew stopped swinging. It was a huge risk either way. He could stay and face a death sentence, or he could make a run for it and spend the rest of his life in hiding.
                    "I need to go for a walk," Andrew stated and stood up.
                    Evan stood up too. Andrew turned to him and shook his head, "I need to be alone right now. I need to think things through."
                    Evan didn't protest and sat back down on the porch swing. Engrid stepped aside to allow Andrew to pass. He slowly went down the steps and walked out towards the sidewalk. A few seconds later, Engrid hurried after him. She wanted to know what he had in mind. She didn't want to be on the lamb for her waning years, but it beat spending them in prison.
                    Engrid caught up to Andrew as he got to the corner.
                    "Andrew! Wait!"
                    He turned to her, "Engrid, go home and get some sleep."
                    "Sleep? With our whole future hanging in the balance and the prospect of spending the rest of my life on death row? I may never sleep again."
                    "Let's go sit on your gazebo and talk." Andrew said, looking down the sidewalk, "I'm too tired to walk."
                    Engrid turned and the two walked to her backyard. Evan had already gone inside and thus didn't see them return from their constitutional.
         
         
          Chapter 12
         
         
                    Amanda was back at it. She'd left the rehab facility and the nightshift staff had not noticed. She didn't care if they did or didn't. She'd pan handled the streets for a while to get more money. She returned to the park beneath the bridge. She knew he'd be here. This man was her rescuer. He had rescued her from the torments of life, though she didn't know his name. She needed him.
                    "Where are you?" She murmured as she stumbled through the park.
                    A shadowy figure stepped out from behind a nearby tree, dressed in his usual long black coat, his face pale and drawn.
                    "I'm here," He stated.
                    She stopped. Even though he was her rescuer and helped her before, she was still startled by him. He was silent as night and could walk up behind you and you'd never know...until it was too late. He stared at her.
                    "I need a fix."
                    He smiled broadly, "It will cost you."
                    Her heart sank. There was no way the cost was going to be something she was willing to pay. She stood still as stone.
                    "What is it?"
                    "You."
                    "Ugh," Amanda was disgusted by the thought of what she thought he was proposing.
                    "Then we have nothing to discuss."
                    He turned to leave.
                    "Wait!" She said, her face a mask of desperate pleading.
                    A wicked, mirthless smile curled the corners of his mouth.
                    "I might be able to get some money."
                    "I don't want your money right now."
                    Amanda was horrified.
                    "I don't want what you think either," he acknowledged.
                    "Then what?"
                    "The guy who chased you. I want him, and you can help me."
                    Amanda was stunned, "Do you want the skinny Mexican, not me?"
                    He gave her a long, appraising look, "He scared off some of my customers. I want to stop him."
                    "How can I help?" She said, glad she was off the hook for whatever he had planned for the skinny Mexican. She didn't want to be in his shoes right now.
                    "Say a word and you are dead. You are as guilty as I am that this is happening."
                    Her eyes widened, "What?"
                    His wicked, mirthless smile returned. He raised his fist to her. She panicked and ran. He gave chase. She tripped on a root and hit her head against a tree.
                    When she awoke, she was in a chair in a dark place. There was one tiny window high on the wall that gave just enough illumination that she could see piles of books and papers and maps and more scattered all over a self-storage unit.
         
         
                    Payson sat behind the desk at the Deerfield police station filling out some paperwork. He was still rattled by the events of the day. Normally, Deerfield was a quiet little hamlet where not much happened, but today, that fabric of quiet normalcy had been torn. Deerfield was no longer immune from the troubles of the big city.
                    The telephone rang.
                    "Police."
                    "I have an anonymous tip for you."
                    Payson pulled a form out of a desk drawer and clicked the pen point into place.
                    "Okay sir...I'm ready."
                    "I know where the Riverside girl is being held."
                    Payson snapped to life. This was not just some ordinary tip...this could be the making of his career on the police force. He could be the one to find Amanda Riverside alive.
                    "I'm listening."
                    "I'll bet you are," The caller stated flatly.
                    "Where is Amanda?"
                    "She's in a self-storage unit. It's by the Shady Acres trailer park out on Route 5."
                    "Mini-Self?" Payson confirmed.
                    "Yes. I have a unit there. I went over there tonight to get a few things and I heard noises coming from one of the units. I noticed that the door was locked from the outside. I called out to see who it was, and she said her name was Amanda."
                    "We'll get someone out there right away, sir." Payson said, "Are you in any danger?"
                    "No...I'm fine. I just hope that she's okay. She's in Unit #17."
                    Payson hung up the phone and immediately dialed Agent Mortar's cell phone.
                    "Mortar here," he said into the phone, exhausted.
                    "We've had a break in the case."
                    "What's that?"
                    "We got a tip from someone that she's being held in a self-storage unit out on route 5. Jimmy and I are going to go out there now. We'll let you know what we find out."
                    "Okay. If you find her, call me immediately."
                    "Will do agent, I hope we find her so we can put this all behind us."
                    He hung up the phone and radioed Jimmy to come get him. Payson looked up the number and called the owner of the mini-storage facility and arranged to have him meet them onsite in 10 minutes. Jimmy arrived outside and picked Payson up to ride out to Mini-self on Route 5 next to the Shady Acres trailer park.
                    They flew through the dark Deerfield streets, excited that they may be the ones to solve the case and get some recognition from the higher officials. They didn't sound their sirens because they didn't want to alarm anyone or alert the perpetrators.
                    Payson sailed the large police cruiser into the mini-storage facility. It took a moment to find Unit #17. They parked in front of it just as the owner, Dave Samuelson, came around the corner with a set of keys.
                    "Thanks for coming out here." Payson said.
                    "I don't want this kind of notoriety, but I guess I should help the police when I can."
                    Payson rapped on the door with a nightstick, "Anybody in there? This is the police."
                    Amanda had sat stonily when she heard the car arrive, thinking that her rescuer turned kidnapper had returned to do whatever with her. When the strange voice announced it was the police, she started calling out again.
                    "Open this door!" Payson shouted.
                    Dave stooped down and tried to put the key in the lock, but it wouldn't fit. He pulled the keys up to his eyes in the dim lighting to make sure it was the right one...the tag said, 'Unit #17,' this had to be the right key. He tried again, but to no avail.
                    "Stand back!" Payson said, and produced a set of bolt cutters from the trunk of the police cruiser. Dave and Jimmy stepped away from the door as Payson approached.
                    The voice inside cried out, "Get me out of here!"
                    "We're going to get you out! It's going to be okay," Jimmy soothingly.
                    Payson reached down and with a big burst of force, snapped the metal arm of the padlock. He snatched it away from the lock and lifted the door. Amanda was inside tied down to a chair. There were hundreds of books piled everywhere. There were notebooks and textbooks. It looked like a college library after an earthquake.
                    Payson turned to Dave, "Who rents this unit?"
                    "A new guy, named Andrew Garrison, I think. Or something that sounds like that. I can go make sure and get you his address if you want."
                    "Yes. Do that."
                    Dave turned and hurried away. He now realized just how serious this all was. This wasn't the police following-up on some phony 'tip' but that this girl really was in there and she really had been kidnapped.
                    Payson shined a flashlight into the unit. Jimmy clicked on the lights. The old fluorescent lights flickered to life overhead. Payson clicked off his flashlight and returned it to his utility belt. Amanda sat staring at them, tears streaming down her face.
                    "Are you Amanda Riverside?"
                    She nodded, the sobs coming heavier and louder. "I want to go home!"
                    "We'll get you home." Jimmy said soothingly, he reached around to the large knot that held her in place. His Boy Scout training came back to him and he knew that it was a binding knot. A pretty complicated one. Whoever tied her up, knew what he was doing. He wiggled the knot a little to try to loosen it up, but it only got tighter.
                    He pulled out a knife from his utility belt and cut away the rope. He unwrapped the rope from around her wrists. The instant her hands were free, they flew around Jimmy's neck. Amanda Riverside was a scared little girl. She'd been through a lot, but now perhaps she'd be okay.
                    "It's going to be okay." He patted her head as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. "We're going to take you to your father now."
                    As he walked out of the self-storage unit, Amanda wrapped in his arms, Dave came around the corner with a sticky-note.
                    "This is the name and address of the person who rents this unit." He handed the scrap of paper over to Payson who took it and looked at it.
                    "Garrison...it's him, the guy we suspected all along."
                    "We should call Agent Mortar and let him know what's happened." Payson said.
                    "I'm on it." Jimmy sat in the back seat comforting the distraught girl while Payson slid his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Mortar's number.
                    Agent Carl Mortar raced along the highway headed to the scene. He'd called the rest of the SLED people and they were sending a team out to go over the scene and look for any evidence. By the time Mortar arrived, it seemed the whole world was lit up with blue and red lights.
                    "Have we found anything yet?" He demanded, striding confidently to the entrance to the small self-storage unit.
                    "We've found lots of fingerprints. Nothing on the chair or on the ropes, though. The fingerprints were on the door and lots of books, so they probably belong to Mr. Garrison.
          Chapter 13
                    Engrid and Andrew sat in rocking chairs on her gazebo wondering what their future held. Months ago, which seemed like years ago, Andrew arrived in town, a fresh-faced young man with a bright, promising, and seemingly endless future. Engrid was a retired, elderly widow who'd lived in this town and planned on spending the remainder of her years right there in Deerfield. Neither envisioned such a terrible thing to happen all because they wanted to help someone.
                    Dora went outside for a bit of air. Andrew and Evan's house was stuffy and tense from all the interrogation and accusations.
                    "Andrew said you were on a walk." Dora said as she approached.
                    "We were, but then we changed our minds." Engrid replied.
                    "I know it's a dumb question, but how do you feel?" Dora asked, taking a seat next to them on the gazebo overlooking the backyards of Andrew's house and Engrid's.
                    "Scared," Andrew replied.
                    "Me too," Engrid admitted, "All we wanted to do was help a girl get off the streets. She's homeless and needs help to get her life back. All we wanted to do was help. How, in God's name, did this get so far out of hand?"
                    "Engrid, I don't know. I honestly don't know." Andrew shook his head sadly.
                    "I assumed that at this stage of my life, things would stay quiet. I've always lived a quiet life. I went to school and got an education. I got married and had kids. I taught mathematics for 36 years. I retired almost 20 years ago. I figured I would live out my years here in this house and then die.
                    "In a way that was my plan too."
                    "I guess, in a way, you have more to give up than I do."
                    "How so?" Andrew asked.
                    "You have another 50-60 years to go. I've only got a few more years left and then I'm out of here anyway. Plus you've got Evan. You've got someone you could conceivably spend the rest of your life with, a spouse, of sorts."
                    "Nothing says Evan can't come with us." Andrew said.
                    Dora cleared her throat, "You two aren't thinking of running, are you?"
                    Engrid ignored Dora and replied, "He might. He's left before, he might again."
                    "I don't want to go anywhere. I'm hoping this all clears up and we don't have to. Andrew said.
                    "That would be ideal." Engrid agreed.
                    Andrew shook his head slowly as the thoughts spun, but was conclusion crystallized.
                    "We have to go," Andrew stopped rocking and sat up straight.
                    "What?" Dora and Engrid said in unison.
                    "Go pack a suitcase."
                    Engrid just stared at him, her mouth draped open. "What?"
                    "Go pack a suitcase. Pack for cold weather."
                    Dora stood up, "Andrew, this is crazy. You didn't do anything wrong."
                    "I know that." Andrew said, "But we have no way to prove it. If we sit there, they'll pin everything on us."
                    "What makes you think that?" Dora asked, "You did not kidnap her. The truth will come out and this will all be over."
                    "We just need to go for a bit," Andrew said, "Let the police do their work, but I can't be here another moment."
                    "I understand," Dora replied, "I don't like it, but I understand."
                    "Thank you." Andrew said.
                    Dora fished in her pocket. She pulled out the keys to her Explorer.
                    "They'll be looking for your car. Take mine."
                    "What?" Engrid said.
                    "She's right." Andrew admitted.
                    Engrid began to sputter a reply, but she gave up and turned towards her house. She had her marching orders...she was to pack a suitcase to go to a yet undisclosed location. All she knew at this point was that Andrew had already picked out a spot and it was a cooler location. That left Dora and Andrew alone on the gazebo.
                    "What's your plan?" Dora asked.
                    "I don't know. I just don't want to spend my life in jail."
                    "Unless you did something wrong, that won't happen." Dora said.
                    "I hope you're right." Andrew replied and stood up.
                    She watched him go. He walked to the back of his house and rummaged around behind a large shrubbery. He pulled out a small, rollaboard suitcase. He moved on and went toward Dora's house. She sat here, mulling as she heard the engine of her own vehicle come to life. Was she helping her friends escape a life in prison or was she aiding and abetting felons and would end up an accessory to whatever they had done? She fervently prayed it was the former, not the latter. Her car went down the street a bit and she heard it coming back up on the far side. He'd circled the block so that the people in Andrew's house would be less likely to hear it. He parked between Engrid's house and Myrtles.
                    Andrew went around back and went into Engrid's house via the backdoor and up the stairs to her bedroom. Engrid opened up her closet and lugged out a large suitcase. She flopped the black Samsonite onto the bed and unzipped it.
                    "This just all seems so...so...surreal," Engrid said, staring at the empty suitcase, "I've lived in this house since I was 27.
                    "Hurry, we may not have much time." I'm worried they'll spot us or Dora will change her mind.
                    Engrid got into motion and packed sweaters, jackets, and several other items.
                    "Where are we going?"
                    "Hopefully nowhere." Andrew replied.
                    Engrid didn't pursue the topic further. She only kept adding items to her suitcase. She packed up her curlers and a multitude of grooming items.
                    Andrew walked over to the window to see if the police had returned. He hoped his mind wasn't playing tricks on him and he wasn't about to make the situation infinitely worse by making a run for it. He wasn't sure how he knew, he just knew that Amanda was going to be found and it wasn't going to bode well for him. He began to pace as it seemed that it was taking Engrid an inordinately long time to pack her stuff. He ran his stressed fingers through his tousled black hair.
                    "What's wrong, Andrew? What aren't you telling me?"
                    "I don't know. I just have a feeling that we need to hurry if we're going to go through with this."
                    "I don't want to go through with this." She raised her eyebrows and shook her head vigorously.
                    "I know you don't. I don't either...it's just that I don't want to spend the rest of my life in prison. Like you said, I've got another 50-60 years to go. I'd rather not spend that in a federal facility. Or have it cut short by capital punishment."
                    "I've never liked capital punishment. Why should we kill people to show people that killing people is wrong? Anyway...it's not going to come to that." Engrid said, trying to convince herself as much as anyone.
                    "Do you have any books or other things downstairs you want to take with us? I can get them and carry them out to my car."
                    Engrid glanced around the room thinking.
                    "There are some books on the second shelf on the alcove by the fireplace. If you'd take those, I'd like that. It's a couple of my old books and a few Bibles. The oldest one was given to my grandmother by her father at her wedding in 1891."
                    "I'll go get them."
                    "Also, there's a writing desk in the living room by the window. There are some legal papers and whatnot in there. We can't forget those."
                    "Okay. I'll leave you alone for a few minutes."
                    "Thank you," Engrid smiled wanly and returned to packing up her things.
                    Once Andrew was out of the room, she couldn't hold back anymore. She started to tear up, and then they started flowing down her cheeks as she looked around the room she'd shared with her husband for the 53 years they were married. She could still hear her children's voices out on the landing when they thought she couldn't hear them. She was flooded with the memories of what had been. She sat down on the bed and sobbed.
                    Downstairs, Andrew put the Bibles in first, so he wouldn't forget them. Then he collected pictures, photo albums, mementos, old letters, and all the papers he could find in the antique writing desk. They needed to make a daring escape as the police closed in on them.
                    He carried everything out to the red Explorer. He placed everything in the back and went back in for more. He carried several loads of her things out to the car and neatly arranged everything.
                    After the fourth trip, he went upstairs to check on Engrid. Her makeup was a little smeared from crying, but she'd collected herself and was almost finished packing. She'd packed her main suitcase, a cosmetic bag, and another small suitcase. They were sitting on the floor by her feet as she sat staring off into space. She noticed Andrew standing in the doorway.
                    "I hope it's okay to bring all this stuff."
                    "It'll be fine, Engrid. We'll squeeze everything in."
                    "I'm sure it will be fine."
                    He picked up the large suitcase and rolled it toward the door. Engrid grabbed the small suitcase, her purse, and her cosmetic bag and followed right behind. He led her through the backyard, past the gazebo, past the tool shed, and through the gate in the privacy fence. He approached the car and opened the backdoor.
                    Engrid opened the passenger's side door and got in, placing her purse on the floor. She sat in the car and waited for Andrew to finish arranging everything. The reality of what they were about to do still seemed a distant reality. Her mind still whirred and turned trying to find a way out of such a bad situation. But in her tired state, her mind just wouldn't kick into gear.
                    She knew running away from the law was a terrible thing to do, but the only other option she could see on the horizon was going to prison for the few years she had left. Engrid decided that she would rather be on the run and see the country and breathe the fresh air than be trapped in a tiny, musty jail cell. She looked over her shoulder at the back of the car and Andrew tried to arrange the last few things in their hasty attempt at outrunning the police.
                    She rambled around in her purse to make sure she had everything she might need for the trip to wherever they were going. If she was going to run away, she always assumed that when people ran away, they ran to Mexico. But Andrew specifically said, 'cold weather' so he must have some other idea in mind.
                    "I'm glad we're not going to Mexico," she said to the glove box door, "That place has never appealed to me."
                    She looked over at the steering wheel and said, "Then I guess the other option is Canada. I suppose that is a little more civilized."
                    Andrew opened the driver's side door, "Who are you talking to?"
                    "No one," she shook her head.
                    "Hand me your cell phone."
                    She dug around in her purse and retrieved it. "What do you need this for?"
                    He sat down in the car and started working with the phone."
                    He slid off the back, pulled out the battery and the SIM card.
                    "What are you doing that for?"
                    "Our cell phones have GPS trackers in them. I just disabled it."
                    "Oh...I would never have thought of that."
                    "Hopefully we will help each other. You will think of things that never occurred to me and vice versa." He took a deep breath, "Are you ready?"
                    "No, but I guess I'd better be."
                    He started up the car, put it in gear and slowly proceeded down the gravel access road towards the main street. Engrid looked up and watched her home pass out of sight, unsure if she would ever see it again.
         
         
          Chapter 14
         
         
                    "Get over to the Garrison place, 3621 Maple Avenue," Agent Mortar barked into his radio.
                    "On it." The scratchy voice crackled back.
                    Payson and Jimmy were now dispatched. The long-time pals and enforcers of the law in Deerfield were on a mission. They had to bring in a couple of kidnappers. They raced through the streets of Deerfield, lights and sirens blazing. There were three other police cars in the procession as they made their hasty way over to Andrew and Engrid's houses. They failed to notice a law-abiding red Ford Explorer heading in the opposite direction.
                    They swarmed to a stop in front of the suspects' domiciles.
                    Evan was in the kitchen making a snack when he heard the sirens off in the distance growing progressively louder. At first he tried to put out of his mind any ideas that they were headed in his direction. As the sirens grew more earsplitting, it became more undeniable that they were coming to haul his boyfriend to prison. The panic grew in his throat as he heard the tires sliding to a stop on the street out front. He put down his sandwich and poked his head out into the hallway. He heard the loud thudding on the door.
                    "Open the door, this is the police!" Jimmy shouted.
                    "I'm coming," Evan shouted in reply.
                    Evan opened the door, "Can I help you with something?"
                    "Yes, we've come to get Andrew and Engrid."
                    "With all this firepower, you'd think you were chasing the Devil himself."
                    "We just may be," Agent Senson stepped onto the porch, his blonde hair and severe expression unmoved.
                    "They're not here." Evan stated.
                    "Then where are they?" Richard Senson asked politely.
                    "They went for a walk about an hour ago."
                    "Do you know where they went on their walk?"
                    "No, I know they walked off that way along the street," he pointed down toward where Engrid and Andrew had departed for their evening constitutional and brainstorming session.
                    "When do you expect them back?"
                    "I don't know. I would think in the next half hour to forty-five minutes. They have a lot to think about and hash out."
                    "That they do, Mr. Grayson." Agent Senson said.
                    Payson walked up onto the porch, "They're not around back and there's no sign of anyone over at Engrid's house. Mrs. Murchison is sitting on the gazebo staring off into space. "Both their cars are here."
                    "Then I guess that Mr. Grayson's been telling the truth. They've gone for a walk." Agent Mortar said disdainfully.
                    "Has there been a development in the case?" Evan asked.
                    "You could say that. Let's sit down and talk," Agent Senson said, ushering Evan toward the living room.
                    "Okay," Evan didn't like that tone...not one bit.
                    They went into the living room and sat facing one another on the couch, Richard looked at Evan sadly, "As I said, there has been a development in the case."
                    "What is it?"
                    "We found Miss Riverside."
                    Evan was pleasantly shocked, "That's fantastic! Why are you sad? Was she hurt...oh no...was she...dead?"
                    "No, no she is very much alive. And I am not sad as much as concerned."
                    "If you found her, then Andrew will soon be exonerated."
                    Senson pursed his lips, "Not necessarily."
                    Evan looked puzzled but didn't like the implications.
                    "We found her in a self-storage unit that is rented by your...significant other, Andrew."
                    "What!" Evan exclaimed, "You found her in Andrew's storage unit? Good God!"
                    Richard sucked his teeth, "Yes...yes we did."
                    Evan looked away. "I can't believe it. I just cannot believe it." He shook his head as the horror was revealed to him. Andrew was a monster...just like the SLED agents had said.
                    "I..." Evan began but stopped.
                    "I realize this must come as a terrible shock." Agent Senson comforted.
                    "I realize I haven't known Andrew that long in the grand scheme of things, but he was such a kind, caring person. I can't believe that he would do something like this."
                    "You've been acquainted with him for about six months, correct?"
                    "Yes."
                    "According to your mother, you had a negative reaction towards him when you initially met, is that also correct?"
                    "Yes. At first...something just seemed," Evan trailed off for a moment, "off. Something about him seemed off. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time. Then later I chalked it up to our mutual attraction having caught me by surprise. I guess what he was really hiding was far darker than anything I ever imagined."
                    "Sometimes the people who are closest to a situation are often the last to realize what's really going on."
                    "I guess so. I've known Engrid all my life. I can't begin to imagine that she would get mixed up in something like this. Unless, Agent Senson, do you think Andrew may have coerced her into doing something against her will?"
                    "I think you can call me Richard, if you want."
                    Evan glanced at the door as if Agent Mortar would burst in any second and excoriate them both for getting chummy.
                    "Richard." Evan said, as though the name was foreign on his tongue.
                    It is certainly a possibility we are investigating. Her profile doesn't fit the type of people who do these sorts of despicable things."
                    "Does Andrew?" Evan asked.
                    "Somewhat. Honestly, I didn't think he did it either until we found her in his self-storage unit and she described her attacker and Andrew fits the description she gave. That's a pretty good case against him. It doesn't mean that Engrid wasn't being coerced against her will, but it pretty much puts Andrew in a pickle."
                    "What about Andrew makes you think he's the type of person who would do something like this?" Evan said.
                    "Just general, vague things like he's intelligent, a loner, somewhat shy, not many friends, tends to keep emotions inside things like that- nothing particularly concrete. Individually, those things are not a big deal, but added together they start to form a profile."
                    Evan didn't have a response. He just sat, sadly looking out of his window. What was to become of Andrew and Engrid now? Was she really involved or was she another victim of Andrew's evil, manipulative ways?
                    "I guess I didn't know Andrew as well as I thought I did."
                    "I don't think anyone really knew Andrew." Richard replied.
                    "Richard, I always seem to end up with psychos." Evan shook his head.
                    "What do you mean?"
                    "I used to date a guy named Derek who abused me in just about every way possible. Then I was with a guy named Grant for years and then moved back here. He came down here, went nuts, broke into the house and shot Andrew. Right in front of me. Now I may be mixed up with the worst one yet."
                    "Evan," Richard said, putting a comforting hand on Evan's knee, "I'm sorry this is happening. I don't know if they are guilty or not, but I sense that you are a good man. We need to find out what happened."
                    Evan looked up at the agent. Richard removed his hand and scooted back.
                    "I wonder when Mr. Garrison and Mrs. Matthews will be back." He said, switching back to Agent Senson mode.
                    "I don't know," Evan replied, "If they see all these cars and if they're guilty, they won't come back."
                    "We're covering that contingency now. We've set up roadblocks on the ways out of town."
                    "Okay."
                    "Does Mr. Garrison or Mrs. Matthews have any other cars?"
                    "Not that I know about. I clearly don't know much about them."
                    "I guess there could be a third person involved. Who might that be?"
                    "I don't know. Obviously not me...I'm sitting right in front of you."
                    "Where better to hide than in plain sight?"
                    Evan sunk down in his chair looking dejected.
                    "I'm only teasing," Agent Senson said, "Obviously it was ill-timed and in poor taste. I'm sorry."
                    "It's okay. I just hope we're all wrong about them."
                    "I hope so too. It's looking less and less likely, though."
                    "What about Dora?" Richard asked.
                    "Do you think she did anything?"
                    "With Amanda, no, but she may have helped them escape."
                    "I doubt it," Evan said, "But at this point, who can say?"
         
         
         
         
          Chapter 15
         
         
                    Engrid and Andrew left just early enough they were able to evade the roadblocks. Andrew's insistence that they leave and not wait any longer turned out to be quite the wise thing to do. Andrew drove along, as the glow of Deerfield's lights faded into the background. Engrid was very quiet, just staring blankly at the passing pine trees.
                    "Engrid...it's going to be okay. They'll find Amanda and get this all sorted out. As soon as that happens, we'll be able to go back."
                    "I hope so. I miss my house already. I'm going to miss Evan and Myrtle and Dora and my church. This all just seems so surreal."
                    "It feels that way to me and I've only lived there a little while, I can't imagine what it must feel like for you." Andrew said.
                    "I wouldn't wish this feeling of displacement on anyone."
                    Andrew drove quickly northwest along Interstate 26.
                    "We're out of Deerfield. What's the rush now?"
                    "Once they realize we're missing, they'll set up roadblocks on all the ways out of the state. They will set up a statewide manhunt."
                    "Oh my. Would they really do that to catch us?"
                    "Yes. We are suspected kidnappers of a teenage girl. They will stop at nothing to catch us until we are exonerated. We need to get out of South Carolina as quickly as possible."
                    "Then what are we going to do?"
                    "Get out of North Carolina as quickly as possible."
                    "Why?"
                    "If they can't find us, they will cast a wider net and notify neighboring states to be on the lookout for us. We are so different that we would be pretty conspicuous."
                    "Why? It's just a young man driving his grandmother around. What's conspicuous about that? It seems perfectly normal to me." Engrid said.
                    "But people will be looking for a young man and an elderly woman driving together."
                    Up ahead, Engrid saw a large sign. It stated simply, "Welcome to North Carolina." She'd driven over the state line before but wondered if they really were welcomed in North Carolina. They drove uneventfully over the state line and into the great state of North Carolina in their run from the law.
                    "You know...now that I think about it, this is rather exciting."
                    Andrew looked over at her. He hadn't expected that comment. "What do you mean?"
                    "I'm trying to stay positive, so I don't completely lose it."
                    "That's a good thing. I hope we don't have to stay gone very long."
                    "Where are we going?"
                    "We are going to head north."
                    "Where to?"
                    "We were just getting out of South Carolina. Now, we're going to turn west and go part way through Tennessee, then up, up and away."
                    "To...why won't you just tell me where we're going?"
                    "Winnipeg."
                    "Manitoba?"
                    "Yes."
                    "Can we make it?"
                    "I don't see why not. Since we're leaving from South Carolina, they'll be expecting us to go to Mexico. I have a debit card that is attached to an overseas account in the Cayman Islands. That way they can't track it. It's under the name of a limited liability company I set up."
                    "You planned this?" Engrid was surprised.
                    "Not running away under the cover of darkness, no. It was planned as a tax haven for my grandparents' estate. I help my grandmother with her finances. But it works in this situation too. The investigators won't know it exists. They won't know to look for the paper trail. So, we can spend money with the card and they won't know about it. If I get the money back into the account, we'll be fine."
                    "Hmmm. It sounds suspicious, but if you really think it's the best way. When it comes time to pay up, let me know how much I owe."
                    "It's the safest way."
                    Engrid remained quiet, as the Explorer moved northward through the mountains of western North Carolina towards the Tennessee state line.
         
         
                    Agent Senson sat quietly in Evan's living room, his large, masculine hands folded neatly in his lap.
                    Dora appeared in the doorway looking worried. She'd returned from her fretting session on the gazebo.
                    "What on earth is going on here?" She asked, looking at Evan and Richard sitting on the couch together, "What's happened?"
                    "They found Amanda." Evan said.
                    "That's terrific!" Dora looked surprised, "So this is just wrapping things up?"
                    "Not exactly, Dora," Evan stated, "Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse."
                    "How is that possible?" Dora asked.
                    "They found Amanda in Andrew's storage unit out on Route 5."
                    "Oh!" she gasped and took a step back, "Where's Andrew?"
                    "That's the million-dollar question," Richard broke in, "You wouldn't have any suggestions where we should look, do you?"
                    Dora pondered the question for a moment, "No. I'm sure you've already checked everywhere I would think of."
                    "You don't think they've...made a run for it, do you?" Evan asked, swallowing hard.
                    "It's possible," Agent Mortar replied appearing in the doorway, "We're putting tracing on all his bank accounts and credit cards. If he tries to make any purchases or withdrawals, we'll know about it immediately."
                    "Then he's probably not going to do that," Dora shook her head, "He's much too smart. Besides, both their cars are outside."
                    "His intelligence is part of what makes him dangerous. Plus, he has a military background. He might have a few tricks up his sleeve that none of us knows about."
                    "If we haven't gotten any hits in a couple of days, then chances are they're holed up here in town somewhere. We've set up roadblocks, but we may have been too late," Agent Senson stated to the assembly.
                    Dora turned to Evan, "You don't think Andrew actually kidnapped that girl, do you?"
                    Evan thought long and hard about his reply, "I don't know. I didn't think so, but Dora, they found her in his storage unit and she described the person who did it and it fits Andrew. He went looking for her the other night after her dad made accusations against us. I really didn't think Andrew had anything to do with it, but even I can't deny that this doesn't look good."
                    "Mrs. Murchison, Mr. Grayson," Agent Senson said, "If Mr. Garrison or Mrs. Matthews were to leave town, do you have any suggestions at all where they might go?"
                    The two thought for a moment.
                    Evan stated, "The only family Andrew has is his uncle in San Diego and the rest of his family in Brazil. But that's a long way to go."
                    "Engrid has children scattered around, but she'd be too embarrassed to go to any of them for help. She has a bit of a prideful streak."
                    "So, where are her children located?"
                    "I'll go back over to my house. I have their addresses and telephone numbers written down. You can have them if you need to call her kids to see if they know of anything. Two are here in South Carolina, one is in Florida, and one is in Texas."
                    "Andrew also has a lot of friends in the New York City area. They might head that way."
                    "Engrid's originally from Oregon and she lived in Idaho for a while before she got married and moved here, but that was many, many years ago. But she might have some relatives there."
                    "So, we have New York, California, Oregon, Texas, Florida, and Idaho as options. I sure wish we could narrow the list down a bit." Agent Senson said.
                    "Unless...what if they went somewhere they thought we'd never look for them?" Evan suggested.
                    "Like where?" Agent Senson said, turning his full attention to Evan.
                    "That's the problem."
                    "So," Dora said, "Applying our logic, we would rule out the northeast, the southeast, the southwest and the northwest...what else is left?"
                    "Where's the farthest you can get from any of those places?" Evan asked.
                    Evan, Richard and Dora looked at each other for a moment.
                    Dora shrugged her shoulders. Evan spoke up, "The intermountain west or the great plains might be a possibility."
                    They looked quizzical.
                    "The intermountain west," Evan clarified, "You know...Colorado, Utah, and Wyoming...or the great plains- Kansas, Nebraska and so on."
                    "What if they left the country?" Dora suggested.
                    Agent Senson looked crestfallen, "That's the worst possible scenario. If they left the country, we would have to have them extradited, which is a massive pain in the neck. Plus, innocent people don't flee the damned country."
                    "What's the quickest way out of the country?" Dora asked, ignoring Richard's last statement.
                    Agent Mortar spoke up, "It doesn't matter. Neither of their bank accounts or credit cards show recent activity or major cash withdrawals in the last couple of days. So, they can't afford the gas to get far enough to leave the country without pinging our card monitoring. Plus, both their cars are sitting right outside. It's most likely that they're right under our noses."
                    "Engrid knows a lot of people, but again she's not likely to turn to any of them for help. She'd be too embarrassed that she'd gotten herself into trouble." Dora said.
                    "What about Andrew?" Richard asked.
                    Evan replied, "I doubt it. He's new in town so I don't know anyone who'd take on the law to protect him. Other than Engrid, Dora, and me, he doesn't really have many friends in town." Evan said.
                    "Does he have friends anywhere that might take on the law to protect him?"
                    Evan thought about it for a few moments. Only one I can think of. He has a friend named David McGregor. But I don't know where he lives. I think somewhere in New York."
                    "We're currently decrypting Andrew's computer, so we might be able to get an address."
                    "Where is Amanda?" Dora asked, switching topics, "I hope she's okay."
                    "She's in the hospital. It's just a precaution...they're running some tests to make sure she's okay. Then we're going to release her to her grandmother since her dad's in jail."
                    "Poor thing. Her father is in jail and she's been kidnapped and held in a storage locker for who knows how long. Plus being out on the streets like that."
                    "Streets?" Agent Senson looked at Dora.
                    Dora returned his puzzled look, "The streets. Dylan didn't tell you? Part of what happened at the ill-fated dinner party at Myrtle's the other night is that he told us that he threw her out of the house for being a lesbian."
                    Richard turned over this new piece of information in his mind. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Dylan had played the frightened father card earlier, but he'd done something pretty terrible to his daughter himself.
                    "In the interviews, no one mentioned that little factoid." Mortar was annoyed.
                    "Yes. It was part of the yelling and screaming about me and Engrid being a lesbian couple. He also levied some egregious epithets at Evan and Andrew too. Dylan really went off the deep end that night. Also, that night, the rest of us went looking for Amanda. It was purely out of concern for her safety. We drove to Columbia together in Engrid's car and tried to find her."
                    "Who is 'the rest of us'?" Agent Mortar asked, narrowing his eyes. A vein bulged in his forehead.
                    "Andrew, Engrid, Evan, Myrtle and me- we all piled in Engrid's Town Car and drove."
                    "Where did you look?" Richard asked.
                    "We went to a soup kitchen/homeless shelter called...what was the name of that place?"
                    Evan filled in, "Hospitality House. Andrew said that they talked to a woman there named Joyce Elliott. She told them where Amanda might be."
                    "But," Dora broke in, "She told them not to go that night because it was too dark and it might be dangerous to go to that part of town at night."
                    Agent Senson looked thunderstruck though he tried to hide it.
                    "So, Engrid and Andrew went back the next afternoon without us. We waited here by the phone in case something happened."
                    "Did anything happen?" Richard twerked his eyebrows.
                    "After Andrew got home that night, he told me that Amanda fell into the river from the bridge and he'd rescued her. Then the paramedics came and took her away to the detoxification center. Then it was so late, once the paramedics took her away, Engrid and Andrew came back here. Andrew came in around midnight."
                    "How dare you!" Agent Mortar bellowed, "I should have both of you hauled off for obstruction of justice. Why didn't a single one of you bother to tell us this?"
                    Mortar's venous forehead bulged with anger that these two miscreants were messing up his investigation.
                    "We were afraid," Dora stated, "I'm 90 and I have no intention of going to jail."
                    "I'm 27 and I have no intention of going to jail." Evan stammered.
                    "In the interviews, why didn't you say anything about your involvement in this?" Agent Mortar demanded.
                    Dora replied, "I can't speak for Evan, but you intimidate the living daylights out of me. Agent Senson here is much less imposing. I guess he made us feel like we were part of the investigative team rather than suspects."
                    "You are NOT part of the investigative team...you ARE suspects!" Agent Mortar threw up his hands and stormed out of the living room and out onto the porch.
                    Agent Senson looked embarrassed. "He can be a bit overbearing at times. I don't think of you as suspects. I think of you as sources of information. I think you've both had your trust violated by Andrew's malfeasance and that makes you victims too, in a way."
                    Dora and Evan just looked stunned.
                    "But, Carl was right about one thing, though, you should have spoken up earlier. Now your credibility is at risk. Is there anything else you can think of that might help us find them?" Agent Senson asked.
                    "No," both agreed.
                    "If you think of anything or remember anything about what happened the night you went to Columbia or the following night, please let us know."
                    "We will."
                    Dora sat down on the sofa and looked out of the window. This had all become such a colossal mess very quickly. She'd known Engrid for over 60 years and she knew, without a shred of doubt, that Engrid was innocent. There was no way in the conceivable universe that Engrid would willingly participate in kidnapping anyone or hurt anyone in any way.
                    Dora couldn't vouch for Andrew as strongly as she could vouch for Engrid, but nonetheless, he didn't seem like the type of person who could not only kidnap and confine someone, but could coerce a harmless old woman into the plot to do such unthinkable things. It took a truly sick person to do that. Andrew hadn't seemed like a sick, demented man; but, as Evan said, none of them knew Andrew as well as they thought they did.
                    Dora looked up as a uniformed officer came into the room. He approached Agent Senson, who was standing by the window staring out into the darkened town. Dora strained her ears to hear the whispered conversation.
                    "Only two sets of fingerprints were recovered from the scene...Andrew's and Amanda's. There is something odd, though. Neither the chair, Amanda's person, the door, nor the door lock had fingerprints on them."
                    "What's odd about that?" Agent Senson asked, "Engrid and Andrew were in there at other times, but used gloves when they were bringing Amanda in. So, what you've told me doesn't help the case."
                    "This might."
                    "What's that Jimmy?"
                    "We showed Amanda a picture of Andrew and a picture of Engrid. She swears that it was them."
                    Agent Senson looked more thunderstruck than before.
                    "Are you absolutely sure?" he asked.
                    Jimmy Behr scowled, "Of course I'm sure. We had a licensed child psychologist show her the picture and the psychologist insisted that Amanda's reaction was genuine and truthful."
                    Dora left the room, she might be sick.
                    "I wonder where she's going." Evan said.
                    "Maybe she thought of something."
                    "Dora!" Agent Senson called after her.
                    She didn't stop but left the house entirely.
                    "Just give her a minute," Evan said, "It's going to take her a moment to process what you just said."
                    "What about you?" Richard said.
                    "I just feel numb." Evan admitted.
                    "This must come as a shock," Richard said.
                    "Your boyfriend has been a very bad boy," Agent Mortar said, "He will be brought to justice. You can help us or be charged with accessory to commit kidnapping if you helped them in any way or withhold any information from us."
                    Evan slumped onto the couch.
                    "Can we have a moment?" Richard asked.
                    Agent Mortar looked a bit confused but decided not to ask. "I'll be in the kitchen."
                    Richard sat back on the couch next to Evan.
                    "I'm sorry." He said, "You deserve better."
                    "I wish that was true," Evan said, "Sorry to sound maudlin."
                    "Maudlin? That's a fun word I haven't heard in a while." Richard smiled.
                    "I know lots of fun words." Evan said, "I am an English teacher after all."
                    "You are?"
                    "Yes. At Deerfield High School."
                    "That's great!" Richard said, smiling just a bit.
                    "Thank you."
                    "I think you said you lived in New York."
                    "I did."
                    "What did you do there?"
                    "I got my degree from NYU and then I worked at a publishing company."
                    "Wow! Why'd you come back here?"
                    "A long story for another time." Evan said.
                    Richard nodded. Neither noticed Dora had returned and was standing in the doorway. Her eyes darted back and forth. Was the SLED agent flirting with Evan? Dora stepped away again without either of them noticing her.
         
         
          Chapter 16
                    Dora waited for a while and they were still there. She could see Evan and Agent Senson sitting on the couch together, alone. She had an idea she had to follow-up on. She slipped out of her house and walked down the street away from Andrew's house. She walked to a gas station a few blocks away and summoned a ride on her phone. She thought that was a dumb idea when Evan showed her how, but now it came in handy.
                    She rode along in the backseat of the car, thinking through the wisdom of what she was about to do and worried that she'd made a colossal blunder by giving them the keys to her car. She was either about to make the situation far better or considerably worse. She finally decided that she had to go through with it. She stepped out of her car and hurried up the steps of the police station before she lost her nerve.
                    She walked up to the front desk.
                    "I need to speak with Dylan Riverside, please."
                    "Are you family?" the sandy hair desk sergeant asked.
                    "I'm his great-aunt Dora."
                    "Right this way."
                    "What's your name?" she asked.
                    "Phillip Morningside. I'm a staff sergeant here. Everyone's out working on a case right now, so I guess I'm manning the fort."
                    "You look tough enough to handle it. You're a bit young, but I'll bet you're strong."
                    "I am." The young man was flattered by this spry senior citizen.
                    He led her through the corridors and arrived at a cell.
                    "Mr. Riverside, you have a visitor."
                    Dylan looked up and scowled. "What are you doing here?"
                    "This is your great aunt Dora," Phillip announced.
                    "I know who she is. She's the one who called the police on me."
                    Phillip looked surprised. The old woman seemed harmless enough.
                    "You were holding a house full of people hostage at gunpoint. What was I supposed to do? Was I just supposed to sit around on my keister and let you shoot them?"
                    Philip's eyes darted back and forth between them.
                    "Can we have a moment alone?" Dora asked.
                    Philip looked at Dylan, who gave a short nod. Philip turned and left them alone, as requested.
                    Dylan scowled harder, "What do you want?"
                    "I want to strike a deal."
                    Dylan looked at her, unsure what she meant.
                    "I know it's not in my legal authority, but I wanted to get your opinion on my proposal before I ask the police about it."
                    "I don't want a deal with you."
                    "Mr. Riverside, they found your daughter."
                    Dylan looked relieved, "They did? No one said anything to me about it."
                    "They will."
                    "Is she okay?"
                    "Yes. Agent Senson said she was fine. A little shaken up, which is understandable, but all in all, she's fine. She's seeing a counselor right now. As you know, Engrid and Andrew are the prime suspects. I am convinced beyond a shred of doubt that they are both innocent. The strange thing is that they found her in Andrew's self-storage unit."
                    "So that little bastard did do it. I knew he was trouble the minute I saw his queer little butt at Myrtle's house."
                    Dylan's relief was visible on his face. He looked tired and like he had aged 15 years in the past 48 hours. Dora felt like she'd aged 15 years too with all the police and interrogations and suspicions and accusations being thrown around about unspeakable horrors.
                    "So, if they found her in his storage unit and she I'D him as the guy, what sort of "deal" could you possibly offer me?"
                    She leaned against the bars and brought her face up to the gap.
                    "Well, you are guilty...everyone knows that. You are guilty of throwing your daughter out into the streets. You are also guilty of threatening two people at gunpoint in a private residence, not to mention being a bigoted nut job. So, you are in big trouble, as I see it."
                    "I know all this. Are you just here to rub it in that I'm guilty too?"
                    "As tempting as that would be...no."
                    "Then why are you here?"
                    "I am absolutely convinced that Andrew is being framed. I don't know why or by whom, but I know he is."
                    "You're delusional."
                    Dora pressed on, "You have a lot of amends to make to your daughter. You can't repair that relationship while you're in jail."
                    "And?"
                    "And so, my proposal is that I will try to convince Evan and Myrtle to drop the charges against you for the hostage thing if you will convince your daughter to recant. After all, we know they didn't do it. So, if you don't pursue prosecution, neither will we."
                    "Are Evan and Myrtle willing to go along with you...you said you would 'try to convince them' ...are they on board?"
                    "Not yet, but they will be. Once I explain the situation, they will understand."
                    Dylan sat back on his bunk in the jail cell. He wasn't so sure that Andrew was a harmless young man. Dylan was afraid that he was letting a criminal get away. But the offer of his freedom in exchange was a tempting bargaining chip, now that his daughter had been safely recovered. Dylan thoughtfully stroked his chin and pondered the situation.
                    "Okay." He replied.
                    "You'll do it?" Dora said, excited.
                    "Yes. I'll get Amanda to recant if Evan and his mom won't try to prosecute me. Deal?"
                    "Deal," Dora replied, "I'll go talk to Evan and Myrtle."
                    "If they don't go along with the plan, then there is no deal. If I go down for attempted murder or assault with a deadly weapon, Andrew and Engrid go down for kidnapping."
                    "Understood, now I have to go ensure the other half of this deal."
                    Dora hurried past Phillip and out into the Deerfield darkness.
         
         
          Chapter 17
         
         
                    Engrid was looking at a roadmap. She decided that since these might be the end of her days and she and Andrew might end up going out like Thelma and Louise, she might as well enjoy seeing the country before she left the planet.
                    She was certain that once they bedded down for the night, the ghosts would haunt her mind and she would end up in tears as the reality of what they were up against came crashing down onto her mind and her consciousness. However, for the time being, she made every effort to lose herself in her project of planning their escape route to Canada.
                    "The closest route to Canada is through Detroit."
                    "We're going to Winnipeg." Andrew replied.
                    "So?"
                    "Then I don't think Detroit is our best option."
                    "So, where do we go from here?"
                    "That's up to you...you're my official navigator."
                    "I know you have it worked out in your head, so where would be best?" Engrid said.
                    "I have a few ideas. I'm not completely wedded to Winnipeg if you have a better suggestion. If you see somewhere else, we might go. We can try it."
                    "Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan."
                    "Moose Jaw?"
                    "Yes...Moose Jaw...I've wanted to go there since I was a little girl and found it on one of my father's geological survey maps. I love that name. Whenever things were going badly in my life, whenever I wanted to escape my reality, I went to Moose Jaw in my mind."
                    "You're serious."
                    "Yes, I'm serious." Engrid nodded.
                    "Have you ever mentioned that to anybody?"
                    "No...it's the sort of thing that isn't nearly as much fun if people know about it. Plus, I haven't thought about it myself in a hundred years."
                    "Then we'll go there. They would never think to look for us in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Engrid, it's perfect."
                    "Moose Jaw," She smiled, "I also like the name Medicine Hat." They were funny sounding names, and eighty years after thinking of it originally, she was finally going to get to go to Moose Jaw. Now she was truly excited about it.
                    It was nerve wracking that she might finish out her last days in the Canadian wilderness, but there were worse places to die...rural Mexico being one fate she was glad she'd dodged. When it initially occurred to her that running away might be a last resort option, Mexico had been the first place she'd thought of. It seemed to be the place of choice for miscreants and outlaws on TV. Since she was now an outlaw herself, it made sense that she would go there. But Andrew's suggestion of Canada was a vastly better option for her.
                    "It's a long drive, you realize." Andrew said.
                    "I know that. It's in western Canada and we are still in North Carolina. It'll be a couple of days before we get there. We will have ourselves a little road trip."
                    "You sound almost excited about this."
                    "Well, I thought about it and this might be my final hurrah."
                    "What do you mean?" Andrew asked.
                    "I'll turn 90 on my next birthday. How many more years could I be around? 10 to 15 would be an extremely generous estimate. Chances are I've only got 4 or 5 more good years left before I become feeble and then die. If I'm going to spend my final years on the lamb, I might as well make a fun road trip out of it. If I was going to be miserable for my final years, I might as well have stayed in Deerfield and gone to prison."
                    Andrew mused over that for a moment.
                    "Uncle Ray really wanted me to be a spy. It was his dream for me to follow in his footsteps. I think part of it was that he gave up that life when he took responsibility for me. I know he missed it. If it weren't for me, he would have stayed in the CIA rather than becoming an army bureaucrat."
                    "Why doesn't he go back to being a spy now that you're all grown up?"
                    "50-year-old spies tend not to last that long. So by the time I was 'all grown up' it was too late for him to do that. He's just biding his time until he can retire. So, his dream I guess was to live vicariously through me. But I didn't want the nomadic life of a spy. When he was in the service in that capacity, he would get a phone call and disappear for months at a time. He would come back scratched up, shot, and bruised. He would be very evasive and not tell me where he'd been or what he'd done. Then I started helping his old commander and doing the delivery missions, two things became clear to me. Espionage was not the career path for me and that my becoming a CIA agent was Uncle Ray's sweetest dream for me. It disappointed him a lot when I didn't do that. Now it looks like the nomadic, rootless life insists on following me. As soon as I thought I was safe and settled, everything fell bizarrely and fantastically to pieces. Who would have ever imagined that something like this would happen? I have always gone out of my way to obey every law on the books. I've never had a speeding ticket or parking ticket or any legal infraction of any kind. Now, I'm accused of kidnapping and knows what else they'll pin on me and now I'm a fugitive."
                    Engrid turned these things over in her mind.
                    "I don't know what it's like to be a disappointment to a parent. I did exactly what my parents wanted and what culture and the church told me was the right thing to do. I got an education, got married, had children, raised them more or less successfully, and had a lengthy and successful career in education. I love my husband and I cared for him in his waning years and placed him tearfully in a grave and now it was supposed to be a matter of waiting for my turn to join him. That's how life is supposed to progress. It's always been that way and it's a system that seems to work. But it seems like everything I thought about life and the world just keeps falling apart in the eleventh hour."
                    "It does seem that a lot of bad things have happened lately. But, we have to remember that we only had the best of intentions in helping that girl. You and I did nothing wrong. We did precisely what we were supposed to do."
                    "I know that. That's what makes this whole thing all the more disappointing. A person can't even do a good deed anymore without being punished."
                    "In a few days, things will calm down and be clearer. You still have your faith."
                    "Yes...you are right. I should never have lost sight of that. This whole bizarre series of events should not have let me forget my faith. God will meet us in Moose Jaw."
                    "We need God to get us out of this." Andrew replied sighing, "A little divine intervention would be very welcome right now."
                    Engrid sighed too, looking out of the window at the darkness of the Appalachian countryside. She wasn't quite sure where they were. Somewhere along the interstate near the Tennessee/North Carolina state line- a very long way from Moose Jaw, and seemingly a universe away from home.
                    "Andrew...you are wiser than you realize."
                    "How so?" Andrew looked over at her.
                    "You reminded me to remember my faith and hold on to it. I've always thought of myself as a faithful Christian. I was raised that way and was that way every day of my life. Then when something truly bad happens to me, I forget that. God goes out the window and I panic. This isn't the first time that's happened. I remember nights when my children were sick or when we found out that George's pancreatic cancer had metastasized and was terminal. I forgot God. I got so focused on what to do and how to do it and when to do it, that I completely forgot to ask for God's help or direction. We may not even be doing the right thing. God may already have this whole thing worked out. We might be running like scared little chickens while God, in his infinite wisdom, already has a plan in place."
                    "Yes, so I've heard. God and his mysterious ways."
                    "Exactly. Things have to happen before other things happen and one series of events sparks or prepares you for another series of events. And you can't see it at the time because we aren't privy to what else is going on in the world or what else is coming down the pike in our own future. But somehow, miraculously I guess, it all comes together."
                    "That's pretty insightful."
                    "I have my moments."
                    "You are a remarkable woman. In some ways I wish you were younger. That way we could know each other longer."
                    "I'm glad I'm the age I am. If I were younger, I wouldn't have had the same parents, I wouldn't have had the same husband, the same children, the same neighbors, everything about my life would have worked out differently and I like my life. There were parts I kind of wish I could do over again; but, for the most part, I'm happy with my life. I'm also happy that I'm almost finished."
                    "You want to die?"
                    "Well I'm not suicidal if that's what you're thinking. I just mean that I miss a lot of people who have died and it does excite me a little bit that I won't have to wait too much longer before I see them again. I know you miss your parents and so forth, but when you get older and you lose people you've known for half a century or more; it's a different kind of missing. There are nights I think George is going to come walking back through my door. He's been dead for 15 years but sometimes I can almost hear him walking around upstairs. When he first died, I sometimes thought he was hiding in the backyard. I know it sounds ridiculous. I will never forget it. It was about two weeks after the funeral. I was sitting in the living room reading when it occurred to me that George wasn't really dead. He just hadn't been home recently, but he was hiding in the backyard waiting for me to find him. I knew it was off-the-wall, and I've never felt so crazy, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that George was hiding in the backyard. So, about 11:30 that night, I finally couldn't keep it back anymore. I just had to check...just to make sure. So, I took a flashlight and went out in the backyard and searched for George. I kept looking all the while telling myself that I was nuts and that George really was dead. I planned and attended the funeral in the church. I watched them close the casket and lower it into the ground. George was completely dead yet somehow in my mind, there had been a terrible mistake and George was really still alive and waiting for me."
                    Andrew didn't reply for a few moments. Then he spoke up, "That's..."
                    "Insane...I know it is."
                    "No, not insane...I just can't imagine my mind playing tricks on me like that."
                    "If you let someone close enough to you and they're taken away, you will. I know many widows and widowers who've had similar experiences. Some of them are downright paranormal. Like a woman at church told me that she was worried about her husband after he died and she felt his presence in her room. She felt like someone sat on the edge of the bed and touched her shoulder. Whoever or whatever it was didn't say anything, but she was filled with the most incredible sense of peace and she knew without a shred of doubt that her husband was in heaven."
                    "That's amazing."
                    "Love is powerful. It can be the glue that holds your life together or the absence of it can drive you out of your mind." Engrid said, "I've seen it work out both ways."
                    "I hope I've found it with Evan."
                    "I do too. You're not a conventional couple, but you clearly love each other. I just hope us running away doesn't tarnish anything."
                    "That worries me too. I'm worrying about someone I may never see again. He might never speak to me again."
                    "You'll see him again, don't worry about that. I'll see him and Dora again too."
                    They drove on in silence for a while, thinking about the discussion they just had.
         
         
          Chapter 18
                             Dora hurried back over to Evan's house to see if she could convince them to go along with her plan. She just let herself in and poked her head in the living room. She failed to notice Agent Senson sitting at the kitchen table. He saw her pass and got up to see what was happening. He stood outside the living room door in the central hallway of the house listening.
                             Dora explained her plan.
                             "Why would we do that? If Andrew's innocent, it won't matter and if he isn't, he deserves to be punished," Evan said, heated, standing by the dark, cold fireplace, "The police will figure it out and they'll be exonerated, or he'll be in prison, where he belongs."
                    "I don't think Andrew is guilty. I think he's being framed." Dora replied.
                    "Why? Who could possibly gain from framing Andrew for kidnapping?"
                    "I don't know." Dora admitted, "Engrid likes him, I like him. You love him. He must be a good person. We were only trying to help that girl, you know that." Dora said, then approached Evan and put her hand on his heart and said, "Evan, look into your heart and into my eyes. Do you truly believe that Andrew kidnapped Amanda and tied her up and left her in his storage unit?"
                    Evan looked into Dora's eyes and saw the earnestness and urgency there.
                    He swallowed hard, "No, I don't."
                    "Evan, that girl is hurt and scared and she needs her father. Yes, he did a long series of stupid things. You and your mother are the only people standing between him and freedom. It's your choice whether to press charges or not for what he did. You, Evan, hold the key to that man's and his daughter's life and I don't want you to make a choice you will later regret."
                             "If he threw her out once, he'll do it again if he doesn't do worse. She'd be better off living with someone else while he pays his debt to society."
                             Dora didn't say anything. She knew Evan was right.
                             Evan spoke, "Does Dylan regret what he put mom and me through?"
                             "Yes. He knows it was wrong. You won't have to worry about him anymore."
                             Evan didn't quite believe her. He knew she had an agenda- liberating Dylan- and she was only saying what she needed to so he would be on her side. Why Dora wasn't on Evan's side was a mystery.
                             "Have you discussed this with Agent Senson?"
                             "No, I wanted to make sure it was okay with you first. I didn't see a point in stirring things up until I knew for sure that you would do your part."
                             "My part?"
                             "Yes. If you insist on pressing charges, there's no point making me look bad."
                             Evan thought it over for a moment. Perhaps Dora was right. Maybe it would be a mistake to pursue prosecuting Dylan. He could have learned his lesson and not be a threat to them anymore. He wasn't sure if that was a gamble he was willing to take.
                             "Are you sure that Dylan isn't just trying to get out of jail so he can try it again?"
                             "No, I really am not sure. I'm trying to get Engrid and Andrew off the hook for something I'm confident they didn't do. This is the only bargaining chip I see."
                             "How can you be so certain?"
                             "This whole thing was my idea. I told you that already. Dylan was uncertain at first too, but I convinced him that it was a good plan. He's willing to go with me on this, why shouldn't you? He has much more to lose than you do."
                             "How so?" Evan asked.
                             "If we do this, Andrew and Engrid are out of trouble. You get your happily ever after with Andrew. If not, then all three of them remain in prison and you'll find someone else. Either way, you'll be fine."
                             Evan looked quizzical.
                             "You are a hell of a catch, Evan Grayson. You may not think so, but most gay guys would likely crawl over broken glass to get to be with a guy like you."
                             Evan stifled a laugh, "That might be a bit of an overstatement, but thank you."
                             Evan turned it over in his mind. She did make good sense; he had to give her that, not about him being a catch necessarily, but with the scenarios of how this might play out.
                             "I just hope he doesn't get out of jail and then try again to hurt mom and me."
                             "I hope not too. I would feel terrible if something like that happened," Dora responded, furrowing her brow while considering the possibilities.
                             Evan mulled it over for a bit and then spoke, "Is it a risk you are willing to take? If you think that he doesn't pose any danger to mom and me and that having him out of jail is beneficial for his daughter, I will agree to it. But mom has to agree to it too."
                             "Will you talk to her?"
                             "No, if you want her to go along with it, you'll have to convince her yourself. I'm not doing that."
                             Dora nodded, "That sounds fair. I will go over to her house now and ask."
                    Dora turned and left Evan standing by the fireplace looking into its black, cold interior. Evan's normally youthful face was full of worry lines and furrows. He thought life was going remarkably well and then in the last 72 hours, it had all fallen apart. He could sense in his heart that Andrew was gone.
                    He knew Andrew realized the trouble he was in and decided to make a run for it. If he'd been asked to come, Evan would have been the first to jump in the car. While he understood the reasoning, he was hurt that Engrid and Andrew had ditched him and ran. He turned to leave the room. Evan left the living room and was surprised to see Richard standing in the hallway.
                             Agent Senson stood in the front doorway and saw him leaving, "Evan...where are you going?"
                             "Upstairs. I need to be alone."
                             "I understand."
                             "Wait," Evan stopped and turned around, "Did you hear all of that?"
                             "Yes."
                             "Why didn't you didn't intervene?"
                             "It's a crazy plan, but I don't see it as dangerous. It really isn't up to you to press charges because the police had to take him down. It's not like it's a 'your word against theirs' issue. Plus, while I just met you, I'm pretty sure Dora is right about you."
                             "So, it's all for naught?"
                             "In terms of getting Dylan out of jail or Andrew off the hook, yes, but it may end up revealing additional information."
                             Evan didn't reply and simply walked down the central hallway and up the stairs to the bedroom he'd shared with Andrew. Evan opened the door and flopped face down on the bed. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he refused to let the macho men downstairs see anything weak or vulnerable.
                             Evan realized that he'd been left again. When he came out to his mom, she left him, though she'd come back. Not only did Andrew leave him, he felt like Engrid had left him too. He couldn't understand why they didn't love him enough to let him come along. He would have done anything in the world to be with them right now. If he could evade the SLED agents, he would have tailed them to the far corners of the earth.
                             He rolled over on the mattress and looked out into the night sky through the curtains.
                             "Where are you, my love?" he said out loud. "Why won't you come back to me?"
                             The tears burst forth and Evan wept for his love that was lost. His heart ached that Andrew was gone. He almost wished Andrew was guilty so he could hate him for being an evil monster. Even though he was conflicted, he knew; he was utterly convinced, by the faint glimmer from Dora's impassioned pleas that Andrew was innocent.
                    Evan was angry at himself for thinking, even momentarily, that Andrew was guilty or, or even capable of, doing the crimes the police were convinced he'd done.
                             But where could Andrew and Engrid be? For both himself and the police, that was the million-dollar question. But Senson specifically said that there had been no activity on Andrew's accounts. Evan opened his eyes and sat up on the bed. It dawned on him.
                    He wiped his wet eyes with his shirt sleeve. Andrew had an offshore account that was part of his grandparent's estate. Evan leapt up as he realized he had one last chance to find his lover. Andrew was a security nut and so kept a laptop in a false air vent in the closet that had all his banking and financial transactions stored on it. Evan was sure the police hadn't discovered it when they searched the house and hauled all the electronics and personal information out of their house. The only reason Evan knew about it was because Andrew decided he needed a failsafe in case he was in an accident, Evan could turn everything over to Ethel Garrison and her attorneys to figure out.
                    Evan stood silently and listened carefully to make sure that no one was coming up the stairs or listening at the door. He had no way to test for bugs, so he would just have to be extra quiet.
                             He tiptoed in his sock-clad feet over to the walk-in closet and slowly opened the door. There were long bars on both sides with clothes for various seasons and occasions hanging on them. Andrew's clothes were all around, while all of Evan's were on the back right corner. At the back of the closet was a chest of drawers. Behind the chest of drawers, was a safe.
                    It was recessed into the wall, hidden by what appeared to be an air duct grate. Andrew installed the apparatus when he moved in. Evan grabbed the corners of the chest-of-drawers and slid it away from the wall.
                             Evan knew how to manipulate the clasps and so it didn't take long to unlatch the "air duct" cover and set it aside. The safe was about three times the size of a shoebox. The only thing in the safe was a laptop and a handwritten piece of paper containing a cypher that would reveal the passcode. Each letter and number was three spaces to the left of it's place in the alphabet or number line, so "A" was really "D" and "4" was really "7."
                             Evan didn't want the police to know what was going on upstairs in the bedroom. He pulled out his cell phone, which had a web browser application. He dared not use the wireless router because the police were almost certainly monitoring that. They might be watching his cell phone but at this point, that was just a risk he was going to have to take.
                             He brought up the cell phone's Incognito browser, turned off Wi-Fi, and typed in the web address of the banking portal. He keyed in the username and password written on the page. Slowly, over the wireless telephone network, the information was being beamed from somewhere in the world to Evan, hidden in an upstairs closet in Deerfield, South Carolina.
                             He clicked on the recent transactions link. There was a gas purchase in Travelers Rest, SC and a stop at a fast food restaurant in Asheville, NC. They were heading northwest.
                    "Where in the world could they be going?" Evan mumbled to himself.
                    He quickly folded the paper and shoved it back in the safe. He stowed the computer back in its spot behind the fake vent cover and returned the chest-of-drawers to its proper place. Now the question became, what to do with the new-found information.
                    He walked slowly down the stairs so as not to attract attention. He slipped by the agents gathering in the living room and walked out to the sidewalk. He made his way nonchalantly up towards his mother's house. He hid behind a large maple tree on the far side of the house and watched the shadows of the two women moving around in the kitchen.
                    Dora was explaining her plan to get everyone off the hook in the case. She tried to persuade Myrtle that Dylan no longer posed a threat to her or her son and that Amanda needed her father back in her life more than she needed anything. Myrtle took quite a bit of convincing, but when Dora got it in her head about something, she was as determined as a bulldog. Myrtle reluctantly acquiesced. Dora excused herself and moved towards the door.
                    Evan waited for Dora and watched her descend the front steps and walk towards the sidewalk. He leaned around the edge of the tree and whispered, "Pssst."
                    She froze mid stride and looked around, not sure she'd heard anything. She stepped to the side into the full beam of the streetlight.
                    "Yes?" She timidly said into the night beyond her visible range.
                    "Dora! It's me, Evan." She peered harder out into the darkness.
                    "What are you doing out here?"
                    "I have an idea."
                    She was still a bit disturbed by the unexpected intrusion, "What's your idea?"
                    "I found out which way they're headed."
                    "Did he call you?"
                    "No. He has a bank account that the police don't know about."
                    "But you do?"
                    "Yes. I logged onto the bank's website and they were in Asheville a few hours ago. I wonder where they're going."
                    "I have no earthly idea. But we can't go after them. It's not safe for them or us." Dora said.
                    "Since you have access to his bank account information, we can monitor it. They have to stop at a motel or something. If we can find out which one, we can call and get transferred to their room."
                    "Precisely!" Evan yelped.
                    "Given their direction, what major cities could they opt for?"
                    "Well, they're in western North Carolina. They could go almost anywhere. There aren't any big cities in that area. If they kept going, they could be in Cincinnati by morning then Minneapolis or Chicago within a day or so. Given the time they charged the meal, they are most likely somewhere in the Knoxville area tonight."
                    "So, we just wait for them to bed down for the night?" Dora confirmed.
                    "Yes."
                    "How long does it take for charges to post to that account?"
                    "Within 10-20 minutes," Evan answered.
                    "Perfect. We can get the location of the charge from that, then look them up online and call the office."
                    "It sounds a bit convoluted, but that just might work!" Evan was excited.
                    Evan and Dora walked down the street back towards their respective houses. It was getting very late. It would be midnight within the hour.
                    "They might trade off driving so they may go all night and not stop anywhere."
                    "That's entirely possible," Evan admitted, "But we can't do anything about that."
                    "That means they'll be very, very far away from here."
                    "But thanks to modern technology, they can still be reached. If we could just talk to them and explain what's happened recently, they'll understand. I just want him back." The teary wetness returned to his eyes and his voice cracked. Dora looked at him sympathetically.
                    "I know you do. I know you love Andrew more than you've loved anybody in a very long time, if ever. He'll come back to you. I know it. He'll come back to all of us."
                    "Do you really think so?"
                    "Engrid will only let him run so far."
                    Evan said, with hope in his voice, "Good point...she'll bring him back. She'll drag him back by his preppie, polo shirt collar, won't she Dora?"
                    "You know Engrid. She'll only let him run the show for so long before she pulls rank and they come right back here to Maple Avenue. It might take her a couple of days, depending on how nice Andrew is to her, or how desperate she really is."
                    "Nice? If he's been demanding and mean it would take longer for her to get him to come to his senses, wouldn't it?" Evan wondered out loud.
                    "You don't know Engrid, then. If you are obstinate and demanding, she will purposefully screw with you just for sheer spite. The meaner you are, the more likely you are to get her to do nothing. Trust me, he's being nice to her or they'd already be back."
                    "Unless he really went overboard...just because Andrew wasn't the actual kidnapper, doesn't mean he isn't involved somehow or even the mastermind behind the whole operation. I just can't get past the fact that they found her bound to a chair in his self-storage unit which only a handful of people knew about and she ID'd him. So, either he's in on it, he really is being framed, or this is beyond a colossal coincidence. The chances of any particular kidnapping victim ending up in any particular place is pretty remote. So, then what are the chances that one kidnapping victim just happens to get dumped in the self-storage unit of the very person who was out looking for her the night before?"
                    "Quintillions to one I guess?"
                    "Unless..."
                    "Andrew was involved or being framed." Dora's shoulders slumped, "Damn. Did I let my desire for this to be a mistake cloud my judgement?"
                    "So, we are back to thinking he's the perpetrator." Evan confirmed.
                    "I have no earthly idea who would have cause to frame him for this."
                    "Well that was an exercise in total futility."
                    "I am so mixed up, I don't know what to think anymore," Evan said.
                    The emotion overwhelmed him, and the tears streamed down Evan's face. They were passing the home he shared with Andrew. He sat heavily onto the steps. Dora sat beside him and put a reassuring hand on his knee. He leaned into her shoulder and cried. He didn't care that Agent Senson was staking out the house and could see them. He must have taken the first watch. After a few minutes passed, Evan calmed and sat back up. He wiped the tears away with the backs of his fists.
                    Dora took a deep breath but said nothing. A few more minutes of silence passed before Evan spoke.
                    "If we think Andrew is guilty, what do we do with the information we have?" Evan asked.
                    Dora thought for a moment and then replied, speaking slowly and deliberately, "It pains me to say this, but we have no choice but to turn it over to the police. If Andrew really is guilty, he needs to be apprehended and brought to justice. Engrid needs to be brought back safely. We could go to jail ourselves if it's found out that we have this information and withheld it from the investigators. We can't withhold information like that. We've withheld too much already."
                    "Agent Mortar threatened as much earlier. I'm just worried that he's innocent and we're about to send an innocent man to prison." Evan fretted.
                    Dora pursed her lips at him, "If he is innocent, I have faith that our nation's justice system is adequate to find him innocent and release him to rejoin the public citizenry. And if, God forbid, he is guilty, then by God Almighty, it's our duty as human beings to do whatever it takes to bring him in and get him put into a maximum-security prison for the rest of his life. If he's capable of this kind of evil, he does not need to be out here with the rest of us."
                    Evan's head sagged as he thought about that. He knew in his heart of hearts that Dora was right, and he had no choice except to turn the related information over to Agents Senson and Mortar. Senson would be grateful for a break in the case while Mortar would be popping capillaries that they hadn't come to him with this information in the very beginning.
                    Neither Dora nor Evan wanted to deal with the irascible Agent Mortar, but Senson was propped against the hood of the car smoking a beautifully etched Algerian briarwood pipe. The sweet smell of pipe tobacco wafted through the air as they approached.
                    "I hope you don't mind me smoking out here?"
                    "Not at all, Agent Senson. There's something Evan would like to present to you. It will help you get your man."
                    Senson nodded appreciatively.
                    "Let's go to the porch swing. It'll be more comfortable." Evan suggested.
                    "I'm going home," Dora said, "It's awfully far past my bedtime."
                    She took her leave and Evan and Richard took a seat next to each other on the front porch swing. Evan drew his phone out of his pocket and keyed in the URL and login information again into the browser. Senson waited with patient interest in what Evan was queuing up to show him. His briarwood pipe nestled lightly among his fingers resting on his knee.
                    Evan turned the phone around and showed it to Richard Senson.
                    "It's a banking website." the agent observed.
                    "Yes. I didn't remember until just a few minutes ago, but it's for a private off-shore account Andrew has somewhere in the Caribbean. It was part of his grandparents' estate and he's using it to pay his way while he's running away. He knows you're monitoring his regular bank and credit cards, so he won't use them. He knows the police don't know about this one and since it's an offshore account, the police or FBI or SLED wouldn't know to look for it. It just dawned on me a little bit ago when I went upstairs to rest."
                    'So, today he made a stop at a Wendy's up in Traveler's Rest, is that correct?"
                    "Yes, and then food in Asheville. Now we're waiting for a motel charge to pop up on the account so that we will know where they are staying. This page refreshes every 90 seconds and it takes about 10-15 minutes after the charge is processed before it is posted to the website. So, essentially, less than 20 minutes after they check in for the night, we know where they are."
                    "This is a very impressive piece of detective work." Richard sounded proud. Evan wasn't sure why.
                    "We will definitely use this to capture Andrew and bring him to justice, Evan,"
                    "If you want to get the most up-to-date information, you can just hit the refresh button every-so-often. That way you can keep closer tabs on him."
                    Senson hit the button, as instructed. "Shoot."
                    "What's the matter?" Evan asked.
                    "He took out an $8,000 withdrawal from a bank in Knoxville, Tennessee earlier today."
                    "Really?" That was news to Evan.
                    Richard turned the phone so that Evan could see.
                    "That's good, right? That means we know where he is."
                    Senson furrowed his brow, "It also means that Andrew is planning to drop off the map for a while. He won't be able to hide forever, but he can probably hide for quite a while. I'm sure Andrew has a few tricks up his sleeve."
                    "What do you mean by that?" Evan asked.
                    "I got the background check back for him. His uncle got him a job for a couple of years as a transport agent for the CIA."
                    Evan tilted his head, "Transport agent?"
                    "Yes. Apparently, Andrew was a CIA courier. He worked for his uncle's old commanding officer."
                    "Andrew was a spy?" Evan was astonished.
                    "Not in the James Bond sense of the term, but he did have some tactical training to keep himself safe. He was really more of a mule than anything else, but, if he wants to disappear, he has the knowhow and the wherewithal to do it."
                    Evan looked bewildered, "I had no idea."
                    "It sounds like this Andrew character is full of surprises." Richard remarked, "I hope he realizes what a good guy he's got."
                    "Every time we find out something new about Andrew, the mystery deepens. It seems that that guy is a bigger mystery than we ever imagined." Evan said, shaking his head.
                    Evan walked over to the edge of the porch and looked out into the night. He thought out loud, "Andrew...what have you done?"
                    "I have a second pipe the car," Richard said.
                    "What?"
                    "I don't think you're going to get much sleep, but a pipe can be very calming."
                    Evan shrugged, "Sure."
                    Richard showed him how to pack and light it.
                    Evan took a few furtive puffs and sat back on the swing next to a SLED agent tasked with catching his boyfriend.
         
         
          Chapter 19
         
         
                    Andrew walked out of the Greater Knoxville National Bank with an envelope stuffed in his jacket pocket. Engrid watched him through the windshield as she plotted their Canadian getaway on her road atlas. She knew how to use Google Maps, she just felt like doing it the old-fashioned way. Andrew pulled his jacket tighter as the cold air blew in off the Great Smoky Mountains.
                    "How did it go?"
                    "I got the money. We'll have to get going in case they've already discovered the offshore account. I don't want to take any chances. Evan knows about it, so he may pass that tidbit along to those idiot agents."
                    He started up the car and drove away. He got on the northbound Interstate 75 out of Knoxville.
                    Engrid knew that Andrew had a plan. She had no idea what the plan would entail but she knew he'd tell her in due time. For the time being, she just sat quietly and watched the glow of Knoxville shrink into the horizon via the side view mirror.
                    "This all seems so futile. This is the age of information and technology. Aren't we going to get caught eventually?"
                    "No. We aren't going to get caught, Engrid. In fact, you and I know we are innocent. So, as soon as the police figure that out, we'll go back."
                    "I remember my first trip out of the country. It was in 1960. My father retired from the geological survey and he and my mother decided to become missionaries. So, at the ages of 65 and 63, they packed up their bags in the Pacific Northwest and moved to Brazil. They moved there in the spring. I used my summer break that year from teaching to go visit them. Airliners weren't then what they are today. They didn't have any massive jets that can fly long distances like they do now. They had transoceanic flights, but not nearly as many. I flew from Greenville to Brownsville, Texas to Mexico City to Panama City to Rio de Janeiro and then took a train into Brazzaville where I got on a bus full of smelly people and chickens. I had a goat for a seatmate and then my parents met me at a bus stop and we took a mule cart to their mission compound. Despite all that, I enjoyed being there. It was amazing being part of a missionary organization. I went back several summers throughout the 1960's but then the area became politically unstable and so even my parents moved to Seattle."
                    "I doubt you'll have a goat for a seatmate in Canada."
                    "I hope not. Like I said, I enjoyed being there, but getting there was a different story."
                    "Have you been to other countries besides Brazil?"
                    "Yes. I've even been to Canada. I've been to Europe. I've wanted to go to Asia, but I haven't made it there yet."
                    "Perhaps we can go. Once we get into Canada, we can leave via Vancouver."
                    "My passport has expired."
                    "Don't worry about that. I've gotten that all taken care of."
                    "How so?"
                    "In the morning, we're meeting someone in Indianapolis. He's got some paperwork we might find helpful."
                    "Oh," Engrid replied.
                    Andrew was silent for a moment, "I can't imagine you in the Amazonian Rainforest."
                    "I was much younger then. I was a youthful 30-year-old. Besides, it wasn't the rainforest. They were down south. I forget the name of the little village they were in, but it was near the border with Uruguay. There were lots of fields and grassland."
         
         
                    They made it to Indianapolis to get whatever it was that Andrew had arranged to pick-up. He drove the car through the streets and pulled to a stop at a parking meter alongside a beautiful tree-filled park.
                    "When I get out, you get behind the wheel. Keep the engine running and anyone who even looks like they're thinking of approaching this car, you drive away."
                    "Okay." When Andrew got out of the car, Engrid scooted over to the driver's seat and watched Andrew put a few coins in the meter. He walked off down the street.
                    Engrid watched via the side view mirrors. Behind them on the sidewalk was a well-dressed young man sitting on a park bench. The youthful stranger stretched his arms up and over his shoulders. He yawned widely and stood up. He walked towards Andrew with a folder in his hands. Andrew and the stranger grew closer to one another and Engrid looked on from her perch behind the wheel of the Explorer. The folders exchanged hands. Both kept walking as if nothing had happened.
                    Engrid averted her eyes and studied the Kansan license plate of the car in front of her. The stranger passed by and if he noticed her, he gave no indication of it. She neglected to drive away as instructed.
                    Andrew disappeared around the corner. Engrid kept glancing around, looking for anything or anyone that appeared out of place. A meter maid zoomed by on her scooter, and a few office workers from nearby high rises kept walking to and fro, going about their daily business. Engrid kept vigilant watch, but nothing stood out to her as a reason for concern. She was watching people eating lunch in University Park when the passenger's side door flew open.
                    "Drive away. Now"
                    Engrid jumped and nearly hit her head on the ceiling at the intrusion.
                    "Good God Andrew, you nearly made me pee myself.'
                    "Just drive."
                    Engrid put the car in gear and sped away from the curb and into the flow of traffic.
                    "What was that all about?"
                    "I got us some help. Just keep on this street and find I-65 North."
                    "What sort of help?" Engrid pulled to a stop at the traffic light on North Meridian Street and West Vermont Street.
                    Andrew held up a driver's license. Engrid looked over and adjusted her glasses so she could see what it said.
                    "Rebecca Peterson. Who is Rebecca Peterson?"
                    "For the time being, you are."
                    "I'm Rebecca Peterson?"
                    "Yes. You are a resident of Davenport, Iowa."
                    Andrew rifled through more of the paperwork.
                    "That jerk-wad..." Andrew exclaimed.
                    "What?" Engrid asked as she pulled to a stop at another traffic light.
                    "Look at this."
                    Engrid looked quickly before returning her eyes to the roadway.
                    "It looks like a marriage license." She said.
                    The light turned green and she proceeded through the intersection.
                    "It is. According to this, you and I are married."
                    "What!?" She pulled the car to a stop in front of the reflective glass windows of the Indianapolis Public Library. The car skidded to a halt as other cars swerved to avoid a collision, blaring their horns as they flew past.
                    "We are Mr. and Mrs. Eric and Rebecca Peterson of Davenport, Iowa."
                    "You and me...married?" Engrid laughed.
                    "Yes. That wasn't what I had arranged for, but it's what we've got."
                    "No one's going to believe that." Engrid said.
                    "Why not?"
                    Engrid just looked at him for a moment before gracing his idiotic comment with a reply, "Because you're a spry young man and I'm a hell of a lot older than you. Who, on planet earth, would believe that we are married?"
                    "I don't know."
                    "Of course, if it were true, I'd be the envy of every nursing home in the nation. But if you are looking for a sugar mama, you're barking up the wrong tree."
                    "I have plenty of money, anyway, so you have me as a sugar daddy for the time being."
                    She floored the car to re-enter the stream of traffic, "I can live with that," she smiled, "I'm in the mood for something...expensive, honey bunch, sweetie pie."
                    "Let's just keep going. We will stop for the night in Fargo, North Dakota."
                    "Can't we stop by Davenport, honey; I need to pick up my Geritol?" Engrid smirked. Once the shock of being married to an adorable 27-year-old guy wore off, she realized that she could have some fun with this. She would get some mileage and some blackmail material out of this trip.
                    "It's not too far off the trail."
                    "I know. That's why I thought we might stop by. That way, if anyone asked us about the town, we could at least have a clue what it looks like."
                    "That's not a bad idea."
                    "Okay." Engrid pushed the Explorer hard as they made their way north that Monday morning. She watched the skyline of Indianapolis fade into the horizon through the rear-view mirror.
         
         
          Chapter 20
                    Amanda lay in her bed, staring up at the phosphorescent stars glued to the ceiling. Her grandmother, Cecilia Bardwell, had come up from Charleston to stay with her indefinitely. Her father was still in jail for attempting to kill his ex-girlfriend and her son. Amanda was in a hospital bed in a treatment facility. The police had run a blood test on her and she tested positive for several narcotics when she was discovered in the storage unit.
                    She was placed in the detoxification center by a court order earlier that day. Cecilia had protested, saying that Amanda would be much better off at home with her grandma than at some cold, impersonal institution. Amanda's mind was getting clearer. The other night had been a dire and much-needed wakeup call for her. She'd given up hope that anyone would care for her again. But there her loving grandmother sat in a chair holding her hand as she drifted in and out of sleep.
                    She started twitching, she was dreaming. She had a vision of her kidnapper etched in her mind. He was a tall, pale faced stranger. He was the man chasing her through a forest. He was the man who supplied her with drugs. She ran faster but no matter how fast she ran, he kept pace step for step. Amanda jerked up in bed, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Cecilia, who had dozed off herself, sat up in her vinyl chair. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Amanda. The stricken expression told her that the dream had not been a pleasant one.
                    "Are you okay, sweetie?" Cecilia leaned forward.
                    Amanda just stared around her room. "No. I'm scared, Granny."
                    "It was just a dream. You are safe now. I'm here with you. I won't let anything hurt you."
                    Amanda seemed unconvinced.
                    "Every time I go to sleep, I see him."
                    "You see the man who kidnapped you?"
                    "Yes."
                    "Andrew Garrison," Cecilia spat as if the name was a vile epithet.
                    "Who?" Amanda asked.
                    Cecilia looked at her. "How much do you remember about the night you came here?"
                    Cecilia sat back in her chair. She wanted to find the guy who did this to her granddaughter. She was so angry at Dylan. He had no business throwing her out like that. Regardless of what she may or may not have been or done, no one should throw their child out in the cold like that.
                    Her rage at him burned deep. Even deeper than anything she felt for this mysterious stranger who got Amanda hooked into a dark underworld.
                    A nurse quietly knocked on the door and poked her head in.
                    "Is everything okay here?"
                    "Oh yes, she just had a bad dream."
                    "Have the police caught the kidnapper yet?" the nurse asked.
                    "Not that I've heard. They have a full out manhunt in progress though, so it won't be long now before he's brought to justice."
                    "No place is safe anymore. There's crime all over the place." Cecilia replied.
                    "That's the truth..." the nurse replied, "Well, if you need anything tonight, don't hesitate to press the call button and let us know."
                    "Thanks, I think we're set for tonight, but I'll let you know if anything changes."
                    Cecilia turned her attention back to Amanda.
                    "What can you tell me about the night you were kidnapped?" Cecilia asked, turning her attention back to Amanda.
                    Cecilia pulled out a micro tape recorder the police had given her in case Amanda decided to open up to her.
                    Amanda lay quietly in her bed, thinking over the night of the attack.
                    "I..." Amanda trailed off.
                    Cecilia prompted her, "The man who kidnapped you was huge wasn't he? Six feet tall or better, right?"
                    Amanda nodded, "Yes."
                    Cecilia sat back. She knew Amanda was either lying or mistaken. She'd read in the paper the physical description of Andrew. He was nowhere near six feet tall.
                    "So, he was tall." Cecilia said, "I also heard he was a white guy. Very pale."
                    Amanda nodded, "As a sheet."
                    Cecelia knew this wasn't the truth. She also knew that the papers called Andrew 'Hispanic.' Cecilia remembered that because she thought it was odd that a Hispanic guy would have such an Anglo name.
                    "Amanda, are you sure the guy you identified in the picture was the guy who kidnapped you?"
                    Amanda remembered the deal. The fear registered on her face.
                    "He can't hurt you in here. Nobody can. They'd have to get through me first." Cecilia said, "So you can be honest with me."
                    "I..." Amanda said, and trailed off.
                    "I can't help you if you aren't honest. If the guy in the picture didn't do it, you have to be honest. You don't want him spending the rest of his life in jail because you lied, do you?"
                    Tears formed at the corners of Amanda's eyes.
                    "I can't."
                    "'You can't' what, baby? I'm your Granny. I only want what's best for you."
                    "He'll kill me."
                    "The guy in the picture?"
                    Amanda shook her head.
                    "Then who?" Cecilia asked urgently, "Please Amanda. I know you've been through a lot, but this is important. Whoever it was can't hurt you anymore."
                    "I remember the night before. I was walking along the bridge over the river. Someone or something scared me. It was something in the shadows and I fell over the railing. The man in the picture rescued me that night. I would have drowned in the river, but he pulled me to safety. The old woman who's picture they showed me was with him. They saved my life. I don't remember much else about that night. I don't know why, but I remember that part. But the man who kidnapped me wasn't that guy. I met the man who kidnapped me on my first night after dad threw me out."
                    "At least that poor young man won't spend the rest of his life in prison for saving your life."
                    "I feel sorry for him. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Amanda started to cry.
                    "It's okay," Cecilia cooed at her granddaughter, "If the guy they're looking for is the hero, not the villain, we have to let the police know."
                    Amanda nodded.
                    "Do you know where you were when the police found you?"
                    "No."
                    "How long were you there when they found you?"
                    "I don't know. It seemed like a long time."
                    "I just remember the man chasing me. It was at the park where I went sometimes to get high. He said he wanted to stop the guy who saved me. He said he was bothering customers. I just remember him chasing me and the next thing I knew I was tied up and then the police were banging on the door. I don't know what else happened."
                    "That's enough. You should rest some more, you've had a bad day." Cecilia leaned forward and clicked off the tape recorder. She was still piping mad at Dylan and as far as she was concerned her son-in-law could rot in that jail cell. If he did get out, she was going to file suit to get custody of Amanda. He wouldn't be allowed to hurt her again in any way, shape, form or fashion. She would pack Amanda up and move to another country before she let Dylan anywhere near either of them. She would see to that. Amanda closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
         
         
          Chapter 21
         
         
                    Evan sat in the kitchen of his house as the sun rose on Monday morning. The police had left and the SLED agents returned to the police station to maintain their base of operations there.
                    Evan wasn't sure what his future might hold. He could afford the house by himself, but would he be allowed to live here? It wasn't technically his house. He wasn't sure if he would be allowed to take over the mortgage should Andrew get caught and go to prison.
                    There were so many unanswered questions about every facet of life. Regardless of what Andrew and Engrid may or may not have done, life did have to go on. He was worried he wouldn't be able to focus tomorrow. He couldn't call in sick, he needed to get out of the house and try to get some sort of normalcy back to his life. Sitting around the house beating himself up was going to do no one any good.
                    Evan picked up the phone and called Dora. She answered on the first ring.
                    Without preamble, Evan started talking, "Dora, in your heart of hearts, do you think that Andrew is innocent and that he'll come back? I hope he's innocent, but I don't know. I don't know what to believe any more."
                    "I have no idea. I'm so confused. I'm so tired this fuzzy old brain of mine won't kick into gear. I'll just have to sleep on it and get back to you later."
                    "That's fair. I'm in no shape to make decisions or judgment calls either."
                    "This all messes with my sense of security," Evan said, not taking his eyes off his cup of chamomile tea, "It just makes me wonder about myself."
                    Dora was intrigued, "What do you mean?"
                    "I mean that I seem to attract bad people. I know I haven't told you about Derek, and I won't go into it tonight, but he was bad news. You know how things went with Grant and now Andrew turns out to be some kind of maniac- kidnapping young girls and holding old women hostage. It's just that if someone keeps attracting terrible people, then that must mean I'm a terrible person too."
                    Dora furrowed her brow and replied, "Don't be ridiculous. It probably means you're a wonderful, caring person. Otherwise damaged people wouldn't reach out to you. If you were a terrible person, you would probably attract decent people and try to corrupt them. Andrew's problems started long before he ever knew you existed. Any mental or psychological problems Andrew has have nothing to do with you. Don't you ever think that any of this makes you a bad person!"
                    "I know. Intellectually, I know you're completely right. It's just that I can't help but think that this is at least partly a reflection on me."
                    "It's not."
                    Evan slowly nodded his head and took a sip of his tea. He looked at the darkness outside the window.
                    "Don't ever let yourself think such bad things about yourself."
                    "When you were single, did you ever date people who turned out to be crazy?"
                    Dora thought about it for a moment, "It might take me a moment; I haven't been on a date in quite some time," she sat quietly for a moment more, "Yes. I did once. What was his name? Ah- Stewart Taylor. Oh, he was bad news. I was 16, he was 23. Of course, my mother was dead set against me having anything to do with him, but that just made me want him all the more. One day he came to cheerleading practice..."
                    "You were a cheerleader?"
                    "Once upon a time, yes. I know it's hard to believe this wrinkly old body was once young and firm. Anyway, he wanted me to marry him. Being a foolish teenager, I said yes. Oh he was every girl's fantasy...muscles, athletic, older and I think he'd been in the military or something. So, he took me in his arms and kissed me...right there in the bleachers. Those girls were so jealous. Then we got in his car to drive to the justice of the peace. But, somehow through the grace of God I guess I came to my senses and told him that I'd changed my mind. He got so furious at me! I'd never been so scared. He flung that car over to the side of the road and made me get out. I was grateful to comply. Well, he spun off in a tizzy and headed out of sight. Then Sunday came. I was sitting on the pew by myself. I was a bit of a rebel, so I attended a Holy Roller church that my parents, being staunch Lutherans, wouldn't get within 100 yards of. The pew had a space between the back and the seat, so that about six to eight inches of your lower back was exposed. I felt someone come up behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and it was Stewart. He was dressed very nicely, especially considering that the depression was in full swing that year. I felt something press into my spine. That boy had a knife in his hand. I froze...he said, 'Don't scream girl...you know you're my girl...I can't let anybody have you.' Oh, I wanted to scream. That voice makes my spine tingle even now. The pastor was going on about sin and vice and all I wanted to do was scream and run away from the man behind me."
                    "What did you do?"
                    "Nothing. Old Man McCutcheon was sitting nearby, and he saw the whole thing. His brother was the sheriff, so Sheriff McCutcheon went to Stewart's house that night and I don't know what he said, but Stewart never bothered me after that."
                    "I can't believe he pulled a knife on you in church."
                    "Neither could I. Now that was bold of old Stewart. Pulling a knife on someone in the house of God...that takes gumption...talking about 'playing with fire!'"
                    "Where is he now?"
                    "I don't know. He moved away from here a few years later and I've never heard from him since. Even though he was a dastardly fool, I hope he had a good life."
                    "Maybe. You sure have."
                    "Yes...I've had a wonderful life. And you will too."
                    "I hope so."
                    "You will...I can feel it. I don't know if Andrew will be part of your life overall or just a blip on the radar screen. That remains to be seen, I guess."
                    "I guess...I hope he is."
                    "I do too, unless God has something better in store for you."
                    "Like what?"
                    "I don't know...maybe someone else...someone who isn't a psychotic maniac, perhaps." Dora said with a gently teasing smile
                    "That would be nice...but we don't know that he's guilty."
                    "No, we don't, you're right about that, I was teasing with the whole 'psychotic maniac' thing anyway. I realize now that it was in poor taste."
                    "I hope Andrew has a good life...whether it's with me or not."
                    "I hope that for everyone. It's just my nature to always think the best of people."
                    "I wonder where they are tonight."
                    "I have no idea. There are a lot of roads out of Knoxville. They could have gone north, south, east or west. You don't think they would actually run away to Canada, do you?"
                    "I don't know what to think anymore, honestly. This whole thing's been messing with my head too, Evan, and my brain is a lot older and slower than yours. So, if you're bumfuzzled by this whole thing, just think how bad it is for me."
                    Evan smiled faintly and stared at his now empty teacup.
                    "Well, I'd better go get my things and get ready for a slumber party," Dora smiled and stood up. She walked over to the sink, rinsed out her teacup and put it in the dishwasher.
                    "Thank you, Dora. This means a lot to me."
                    "You're welcome," she patted him on his shoulder as she walked past toward the door.
         
         
          Chapter 22
                    "Mrs. Peterson?"
                    Engrid raised her head. Andrew was passing Peoria. She'd dozed off with her head lolling against the seatbelt. They'd switched off driving again.
                    "Yes, Mr. Peterson?" She said with irritated sarcasm.
                    "I've been thinking..."
                    "And all this time I thought the fan belt was about to catch fire."
                    "Ha-ha. I was thinking what our cover story would be if the Canadian officials questioned us. What will we tell them by way of explanation?"
                    "That we were two fools in love."
                    "I'm being serious Engrid...or should I say, Rebecca. I think I'll call you Bec."
                    "You can call me Engrid. I don't know why they felt the need to assign me a new name. I've been called Engrid for such a long time."
                    "Were you ever known by another name besides Engrid?"
                    "Yes. My family always called me Mae."
                    "Why'd they call you by your middle name?"
                    "I was named after my two grandmothers, Engrid and Mae. Grandma Mae died in the flu epidemic of 1918 while Grandma Engrid was still alive until 1943. Grandma Engrid lived to be 101. Since there was already an Engrid, they called me by my middle name, Mae. My parents and siblings always did."
                    "You have siblings?"
                    "Yes. Well, had. I was the baby. I was a surprise to my parents later in life. My next youngest sibling was 8 years older than me and the eldest was 14 years older than me. I'm the only one left, though. I had two brothers and two sisters and they're all dead."
                    "I'm sorry to hear that."
                    "I'm sorry to have to say it. It still amazes me how many people I know who are dead. The number keeps climbing."
                    "Mae...hmmm... but no one in Deerfield called you Mae?"
                    "No."
                    "Why did you switch to Engrid?"
                    "I wanted to start my own life in South Carolina. I wanted to make something different of myself. It seems silly now, but at the time it was very important to me. Plus, it's much easier to be known by your first name. It's annoying to have people call you by the wrong name. That's much less likely if you go by your first name. So, I talked it over with George and we agreed that in South Carolina I would be Engrid...in Oregon I would be Mae."
                    "That's really nifty. To think you are so cosmopolitan."
                    "I have a few secrets up my sleeve too, you know."
                    "I can believe that," Andrew nodded.
                    "I like the name Andrew, but I've wondered sometimes why you don't go by Drew or Andy."
                    "I have a couple of friends who call me Drew. You can call me that if you want. I didn't like Andy because it sounded too childish."
                    "Nah, Eric Peterson, you'll always be Andrew Garrison to me" She rested her head on the seatbelt strap and resumed her nap.
                    Shortly, they arrived in Davenport. They spent a few hours poking around the town before resuming their trek northward. Andrew was determined to get out of the country as fast as possible. They drove and drove as they sailed past Minneapolis and turned northwestward. They'd been driving and riding almost continuously since they'd left Deerfield.
                    Andrew kept his eyes straight ahead. His mind churned over the recent events. He felt guilty for dragging Engrid along on this bizarre journey across this great country. She didn't deserve this sort of uprooting at this stage of her life. She deserved to spend her remaining years doing what she wanted and not having to worry about anything. She shouldn't be out here on the open road running from the law. The guilt was beginning to prey on his mind.
                    He tried to focus, but he couldn't. He knew that he didn't want to ever set foot inside a prison, let alone be incarcerated for a very, very long time. He also knew he was innocent. The trouble was proving it. Why should he...the burden of proof was on the prosecution, not on his side. He knew he was innocent, and he knew there was no way they could prove anything against him or Engrid. Since when was being a good citizen and looking out for your fellow human beings a crime against humanity? He hit the brakes. Engrid jerked awake as her body slung forward against the seatbelt.
                    "What's wrong?" she said, bracing herself against the dashboard.
                    "Nothing. There's nothing wrong. We aren't going to run away."
                    She blinked and looked around.
                    "I mean we are innocent. We have no business being out here."
                    "I know that...what's your point?" She rubbed her eyes beneath her glasses.
                    Andrew released the brake and pulled ahead.
                    "My point is that we should go home."
                    "Back to South Carolina?"
                    "Yes. We should go home to South Carolina."
                    "But what if we go to prison?"
                    "We won't. We have a good justice system here. Besides, the burden of proof is on the prosecution. We don't have to prove anything."
                    "We don't?"
                    "No. We don't have to prove anything. We should go back and take a stand. We are not going to prison Engrid."
                    Engrid watched the passing trees. Andrew pulled the car off of the interstate highway.
                    "What are you doing?"
                    "I'm taking you home."
                    "Really? Well I guess we're properly married, so I guess it's okay."
                    "I meant your own house."
                    "I know that...I was just teasing. You mean it, we can go home, and I won't have to go to prison? Promise?"
                    "I promise. We are going to go home and get this whole mess straightened out. I just hope Evan will take me back. He'll probably be pretty peeved at both of us, but he'll get over it."
                    "I'm hoping he'll be so relieved to have us back, he'll forget to be angry about us skipping town and running off across the country."
                    "That would be ideal."
                    Andrew pulled to a stop at the end of the intersection.
                    "Let's go a little further north...we're less than an hour from Fargo." Andrew said.
                    "What's in Fargo?"
                    "Hopefully they'll have a decent hotel where I can take a shower and get a decent night's sleep before heading back to South Carolina to face the firing squad."
                    "There won't be a firing squad. They've probably already figured out that we're innocent and they are just trying to figure out a way to contact us."
                   "We'll call Evan from Fargo and let him know where we are and that we're safe."
                    "I agree. Let's do that," Andrew accelerated the car as he and Engrid sped towards the civilization and amenities of Fargo, North Dakota. They found a motel right off the highway and checked into two separate rooms. They both needed their space after being cooped up in the car together for what seemed like an eternity. It was hard to believe that it had been two days since they made their getaway under the cover of darkness.
                    "You should call Evan once you get settled in," Engrid stated.
                    "I will. I just want to get cleaned up first."
                    "That sounds fair."
                    Engrid bid him adieu and went to her room to settle in for the night. She was positively giddy about going home again. She'd lived in fear the last 48 hours of never seeing her home or her friends again. That thought horrified her, but not as much as the prospect of prison. Now that Andrew was confident that everything was going to be fine and that they were going to go home in the morning, her world brightened and the burdens she's recently carried were lifted.
                    She slid the plastic key card in the door and opened up the door to her evening sanctuary. She sat her purse down on the dresser and rolled her suitcase over to the bed and flopped it down onto the generic floral print bedspread. She unzipped her baggage and prepared for her much longed for shower.
                             Meanwhile, Andrew was pacing in his own room. While he'd assuaged Engrid's fears, his own mind was a whirl of fear and trepidation. He wanted more than anything else on the planet to call Evan and confess everything and beg his forgiveness and that Evan would graciously accept and welcome him back into their home. But he feared that his reception would be less than cordial.
                    He knew that if the SLED agents got wind of where he was, the Fargo police would be knocking on his door in a matter of minutes. Within hours, he'd be taken out of North Dakota and returned to South Carolina to await trial. While he knew he was innocent, he was also well aware that it would not be the first time an innocent man went to prison.
                    While the American justice system was better than most countries, it still wasn't perfect. Sometimes, mistakes were made, and innocent citizens suffered the consequences. He was determined not to be one of them. So, he paced, back and forth across the small hotel room.
                    Engrid picked up the phone and dialed a number she found in the phonebook.
                    "Yes, I would like to order a large pepperoni pizza and a Caesar salad."
                    She was hungry. Once it arrived, she would invite Andrew over to share it with her. Until then, it was shower time.
                    Andrew picked up the phone and put it down again. The fear was becoming overwhelming. This was why he never became a real spy. His nerves couldn't handle the pressure of life or death decisions. Should he call and confess? Should he keep going to Moose Jaw like they'd planned? If he decided to continue to make a run for it, he would put Engrid on the next flight back to South Carolina. That was it...she could be home in a few hours while he continued being on the lamb. No one would believe that she was really involved. They would construct a story in which Engrid was coerced and wasn't acting on her own free will to leave in the first place. That would ruin any future he and Evan might have had, but that was just a risk he was going to have to take. He'd promised Engrid that they would head home in the morning.
                    He picked up the phone, fingers shaking as he dialed Evan's cell phone.
          Chapter 23
                    Evan had finally drifted off to sleep. The stress of the day drained him, but his mind was far too excited to sleep. Slowly, though, sleep overtook him. He'd forgotten to turn off his cell phone. It made its usual chiming sounds. Groggily, he leaned over and answered.
                    "Evan, it's Andrew."
                    Evan was instantly awake, "Where are you?"
                    "I'm in North Dakota."
                    "Why?" Evan sat up in bed.
                    "I thought we were going to be arrested."
                    "You were."
                    "Then it was good we left when we did."
                    "Are you guilty?"
                    "No."
                    "Then why on earth did you run away?"
                    Andrew sat quietly on the other end. He had to phrase his reply exactly to avoid further damage. He weighed the options.
                    "I was afraid. I don't want to go to prison."
                    "If you are innocent, you won't. You are innocent, right?"
                    "Yes...I didn't do anything wrong."
                    "Except to run away. This makes you look guilty even if you aren't."
                    "I know. I know. It was a stupid thing to do. I guess I wasn't thinking clearly."
                    "You were thinking clearly enough to withdraw eight thousand dollars from a bank in Knoxville."
                    "How did you...the account."
                    "Yes...the account."
                    "Did you tell the police about my offshore account?"
                    "Yes. I had to. I wasn't about to withhold evidence. Besides, they still think you are guilty. They're going to find you, Andrew. You can only run and hide for so long." Evan put his legs off the side of the bed and rested his feet on the floor.
                    "Why do they still think I'm guilty? Aren't they smart enough to find the real culprit?"
                    "I'm not so sure you aren't the real culprit."
                    "Evan! Why do you think I did it? You should know me better than that."
                    "They found her, Andrew."
                    "They did? That's great."
                    "Oh really? They found her in your self-storage unit out on Route 5. She fucking Id's you as the kidnapper, Andrew.
                    "What?!?"
                    "That's right. If you are innocent, you have got a whole lot of explaining to do. You're going to have a tough time tap dancing your way out of this one."
                    "I had no idea."
                    "Engrid's not really involved, is she?"
                    "No. I convinced her that she would go to prison for the rest of her life if she stayed behind. She didn't want to leave, and she had absolutely nothing to do with the kidnapping and neither did I."
                    "Then come home, Andrew. She was on so many drugs and so messed up she might recant. If you're innocent, and you promise me you had nothing to do with this, I'll stand by you."
                    "Really?"
                    "Of course, I will. I love you. I want to help you. But you can't go running off to North Dakota or wherever every time something bad happens. If we're going to fight our battles together, we can't be a thousand miles and half a dozen states apart. If we're going to stand by each other, we've got to be together."
                    Andrew breathed an audible sigh of relief, "At least you believe me."
                    "I do. Now come home."
                    "But what if the police don't believe me? If someone put her in my self-storage unit, they know who I am, and they are trying to get me in trouble. Who in the world would try to do something like this?"
                    "I don't know. I can't imagine what you might have done in your past to have enemies who would do something that bad just to get you thrown in prison."
                    "Engrid and I are leaving in the morning. We'll be home soon."
                    "I'm glad to hear it. I'll see you when you get here!"
                    "Thanks for sticking with me."
                    "Get some sleep. You've got a long drive ahead of you."
                    "Good night."
                    Andrew flew out of his room and down the corridor. Engrid had the door open and was fishing cash out of her billfold to pay the pizza delivery guy. Andrew blew past him and into the room. She handed the guy $30 and he thanked her and left.
                    "We've got big problems."
                    Engrid rolled her eyes, "What now?"
                    "They found Amanda."
                    "That's great! Why is this a problem?" She put the pizza box on the little Formica table by the window.
                    "They found her in my self-storage unit out on Route 5."
                    "What!" She whispered loudly, letting the lid of the pizza box fall shut.
                    "I know. I have no idea how she got there. But I just talked to Evan and the police really think I did it. I think I convinced him that I'm innocent. He was ready to believe that you're innocent. I don't think anyone really thought you would do something like this anyway."
                    "Of course, I wouldn't. And neither would you."
                    "So, I'm not sure what I'm going to do."
                    "I was all excited to go home."
                    "You are going home. I'm taking you to the airport first thing in the morning and putting you on the first flight out of here."
                    "Oh. Then what are you going to do?"
                    "I have the rest of the night to decide. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep going or if I'm going to go back too."
         
         
                    Meanwhile, Evan rolled back over to go to sleep. He had a gnawing feeling that Andrew was lying. After all the thinking he did earlier in the day, he wasn't so easily convinced that Andrew was as sweet and innocent as everyone had assumed up until the recent events. He picked up his cell phone. He took a sticky note out of the nightstand and wrote down the number that Andrew had called from. He dialed the phone.
                    A sleepy voice answered, "Richard Senson...who is this?"
                    "This is Evan Grayson...I just received a phone call from Andrew. I have the number if you want to trace it."
                    "Sure...let me get a pen." Agent Senson wrote down the number and thanked Evan for the information. He phoned it in. Jimmy was on duty at the front desk.
                    "I can run it through Google if you want me to."
                    "Yes...do that. Tell me if this number comes up."
                    Jimmy typed the telephone number into the search engine and pressed 'search.'
                    "It's the Western Valley Motor Lodge in Fargo, North Dakota," he reported back.
                    "Get the Fargo police on the line. I want to talk to them immediately."
                    Jimmy put Agent Senson on hold while he ran another search to get the phone number for the Fargo police department.
                    "Fargo Police."
                    "Hello...this is Jimmy Behr with the Deerfield police in Deerfield, South Carolina. I have Agent Richard Senson on the line from our State Law Enforcement Division."
                    "Who does he need to speak to?"
                    "I'm not sure. We are pursuing a suspected kidnapper and we have reason to believe that he is in Fargo."
                    "I will get the Chief on the line. Hold on a moment."
                    Music played in Jimmy's ear as he waited for whoever was at the front desk of the Fargo precinct he'd called to rouse the chief of police. A minute later, another sleepy voice was being beamed through the telephonic system.
                    "Chief Pendergast here."
                    Jimmy switched the lines over. Agent Senson explained the situation to the police chief who then dispatched several units to the Western Valley Motor Lodge out by the interstate.
                    The police sirens screamed through the brisk North Dakotan night as Engrid and Andrew nervously munched on their freshly delivered pepperoni pizza. Little did they know that Evan was now a police stooge and no longer on their side. Little did they know that Dora had become convinced of Andrew's guilt and Engrid's complicity as well.
                    Their high hopes about returning home to exoneration were squelched by Andrew's ill-fated telephone call. Now it was a toss-up whether they should go back. Engrid's disappointment was magnified because she had finally allowed herself to believe that this whole mess would be over shortly when Andrew barged through her hotel room door and informed her that life had just gotten a lot worse.
                             "I'm going to go get more ice," Engrid said as she retrieved her bucket and walked off down the hallway towards the ice machine by the stairs, "I'm still thirsty."
                             Andrew nodded his agreement and off she went. Engrid stood by the ice machine holding the button. Over the cacophony of the ice machine, she thought she heard something. She released the button and silence returned to the small alcove by the stairs. She heard police sirens. They pierced the night. Engrid's pulse raced. Were they after her? Were the police going about their business responding to some 911 call?
                    The alcove with the ice machine was at the end of the hallway. There was a window that overlooked the surrounding neighborhood and the parking lot below. She cradled the ice bucket and watched from the 3rd floor window. She could see the faint flicker of red and blue lights. Hopefully they were responding to an unrelated 911 call.
                             Her hopes were permanently dashed when three police cars zoomed into the parking lot and screeched to a halt. Engrid threw down the ice bucket and ran as quickly as her ancient legs would carry her back toward her room. She slammed her key card into the door and threw open her door.
                             "We've got to get out of here."
                             "Why? What's happened?" Andrew asked through a mouthful of pizza.
                             "The police are outside! We've got to hurry." She threw her things in the suitcase and zipped it up and ran out of the door. Andrew went back to his room and did the same. The pair zipped down to the end of the hallway and into the stairwell. Once the heavy metal door slammed shut, they listened intently to the silence. Hopefully the police would just take the elevator. They could hear faint noises down below. Was it the police? Was it a member of the staff doing routine duties? What could that sound be? It was the sound of boots on the stairs. The police were coming up the stairs. Surely they were watching the elevators too.
                             Engrid's face was a contorted mix of fear and horror, "What do we do?"
                             Andrew opened the stairwell door and motioned for her to follow him out into the corridor. He ducked around to the ice machine alcove and looked through the window at the police cars and the sea of red and blue lights flashing below. There was a small door at the back of the ice machine's space. Mercifully, the janitorial closet was unlocked. Andrew and his suitcase rolled into the closet followed closely by Engrid and her suitcase.
                             Andrew whispered, "I'll conceal the suitcases, you find a good hiding place."
                             Engrid scrambled around looking for a place to hide from the police. How had all this happened? 72 hours ago, she was a retired schoolteacher quietly living out her life in a small southern town. How had her life become such a disaster so quickly? She looked around and found a large, partially empty box of toilet paper rolls. The flaps were still in place.
                             "Andrew!"
                             "What?" He whispered back, as he hid the suitcases behind some boxes under a tarpaulin.
                             "I'm going to get in this box...fold the flaps down so it won't look like there's anybody inside. Please?"
                             "Yeah, sure, get inside."
                             Engrid stood on an overturned bucket and climbed into the cardboard box. The interior was not as spacious as she'd hoped or as spacious as it had looked. It would have to do since it was the only option she could find for a hiding place.
                             "Where are you going to hide?"
                             "I don't know yet. Are you okay in there?"
                             "It'll have to do, I guess."
                             "I'm going to go hide now. Be very quiet!"
                             She scowled, "Oh really? I was going to sing opera while we waited to be arrested."
                             Andrew didn't reply. He closed the flaps of the box that formed Engrid's new roof. He grabbed a few towels off the shelf and hurried out of the janitorial closet. He soundlessly closed the door. He could hear the police milling around down the hall. He dared not peek around the corner to see what they were up to. Their rooms had been compromised. Andrew, quietly as he possibly could, lifted the lid off the ice machine.
                    He unfolded the towels and threw them in on top of the ice. Listening to make sure the police weren't approaching, he climbed inside the ice machine and lowered the lid back into place. His heart was racing a mile a minute. The warmth of his body was melting the surface of the ice and its coldness seeped through the dampened towels. His legs started to get cold. Within moments, he was shivering. While it seemed the only option, he now wished he'd tried to find another hiding place. The ice machine was creative but uncomfortable.
                             Engrid kept adjusting her weight as the edges of the toilet paper rolls were not as soft as one might imagine. After a while, her weight pressed into them and she tried to burrow out a space where she wasn't exposed to what were, when laid on their end, surprisingly unforgiving paperboard spools. She wondered where Andrew might be hiding. She'd heard him leave. Surely the police were up here by now. They were only on the third floor.
                    The only place she could imagine he might hide would be in the ice machine...if that was even possible. Unless there was a ledge outside and he's crawled out of the window. She decided he couldn't do that because the police cars were directly beneath and so he would have been spotted instantly by onlookers. She clutched her purse to her chest for dear life. It was the closest thing to a safety blanket she had at the moment- even though it now contained ID claiming her to be Rebecca Peterson.
                             The cute, wiry, 27-year-old Brazilian husband of octogenarian Rebecca Peterson was still hiding in the ice machine hoping beyond hope that the police would think they'd missed the perpetrators and report back to South Carolina that they were gone. He could still hear the muffled rustling of the police moving down the hallway. The faint rustling was getting louder. They were approaching. He could hear their voices. They were instructed by their commanding officer to search the hotel room by room if necessary.
                    He could hear them pause and the voices stopped. What was happening out there? He could hear the boots tiptoeing past him. They were headed for the janitorial supply closet.
                             Andrew muttered under his breath, "Just let them not find her...don't let them look in that box...pleeeease." The sweat from his nervousness turned instantly cold when it hit the air of the interior of the ice machine. Engrid was still trying to find a comfortable position.
                    She'd been lying still for a while, but her hair rollers were stabbing into the back of her head. She'd forgotten in the fear and panic of the moment, that she'd put her hot rollers in her hair after she'd finished her shower. She failed to hear the janitorial closet door opening. The police were being excessively quiet hoping to catch the suspected kidnappers.
                             Andy van Uuden stood motionless, he waved to his comrades. He'd thought he'd seen a large box moving slightly. It was an ever so slight motion, but it was enough to get his attention. The others gathered behind him and Andy reached towards the flaps of the cardboard box. He yanked them open and Engrid shrieked with surprise. Andrew rolled his eyes...so much for hiding. At least Engrid didn't know where he was hiding so she couldn't give him up when interrogated by the police.
         Andy looked surprised too, seeing a woman of such advanced years with a head full of pink hot rollers hiding in a toilet paper box. "Engrid Matthews of Deerfield, South Carolina?"
                             "No...my name is Rebecca Peterson of Davenport, Iowa."
                             "I'll need to see some ID, Ms. Peterson."
                             "Of course..." she fished around in her purse and withdrew her new license. She glanced at it first to make sure she wasn't going to hand over the driver's license that said, "Engrid Mae Matthews, Deerfield, SC."
                             Andy took the license from her. He examined it. It did look like an official Iowa driver's license.
                             "What are you doing hiding in here?"
                             "I'm afraid of my son."
                   "Has he hurt you?"
                             "Yes."
                             "What's your son's name, ma'am?"
                             "Gary Atchison, sir. We live in the same house. I made a run for it and I think he might have caught up with me and my husband. He beats us both but mostly he attacked Eric, my husband!"
                             "Why does he do that?"
                             "He doesn't like my husband. He thinks he's a gold digger."
                             "Is he?" Andy asked.
                             "No...he's wealthy...I'm a retired schoolteacher. If anything, I'm the gold digger."
                             "Ma'am, get out of that box. We'll make sure he doesn't hurt you anymore."
                             "Thank you."
                             "Where's your husband hiding?"
                             "I'm not sure, I'll find him though. I'm sure you have more important things to tend to.
                             "We'll make sure you're both safe."
                             "Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver. What's your name?"
                             Andy was flattered, "Andy van Uuden. I'm from right here in Fargo."
                             "That's nice, Andy. I'm originally from Sioux Falls and my husband is from Minneapolis. I moved to Davenport a few years ago and my 50-year-old son moved in with us not long after that. Then I married Eric and so Gary, my son, got really angry at me and that's why we're here. We were going to leave him behind. Once, he called the police on us claiming that we had kidnapped someone. It was bizarre. I ended up spending the night in jail...it was just awful. So, when the police showed up, I figured Gary found out where we were staying and pulled the same stunt again. I just couldn't stand the idea of going to jail again, so we hid in here hoping you would go away on your own."
                             Andy looked apologetic, "I'm sorry we bothered you ma'am."
                             "It's okay. It's not your fault...not at all."
                             "Well, I think we'd better leave. We'll call your son and let him know that we are onto him and if he tries to do this again, we'll have him arrested."
                             "You don't have to do that. I'll give him a good chewing out later."
                             "Are you sure? I don't mind calling him. We can also get a restraining order for you."
                             "No, no that's okay. I've been dealing with him for many years. If you call, that will only make him angrier and more determined."
                             "Well, okay then. If you're sure...we can report domestic violence."
                             "It's not violence. That's such a terrible word...it just sounds nasty."
                             "It is nasty. Are you sure you are okay, ma'am?"
                             "I am. Thanks for asking, though, that was really sweet of you."
                             Andy commanded his troops, "Alright guys, let's get out of here and let this nice lady get some sleep."
                             "Thank you for following up. It was a mistake this time, but you boys keep up the good work and keep the streets safe for little old ladies like me."
                             "We will ma'am, you have a good night." Andy shook Engrid's hand and his crew turned and left the janitorial closet.
                             She dusted herself off and retrieved the suitcases from behind the gray metal shelving. She poked her head out of the door. She tiptoed over to the edge just in time to see Andy and his team step onto the elevator and the doors glide closed.
                             "Andrew!" she whispered to the side of the ice machine, "It's me, Engrid...are you in there? It's okay- I got rid of the police."
                             The lid of the ice machine rustled a little bit. Andrew's eyes peered over the edge.
                             "What did you tell them?"
                             "That I was hiding from my abusive son."
                             "And they believed you?"
                             "Hook line and sinker."
                             "Good. But it is best if we go ahead and leave."
                             "I agree. I guess we won't be going back to Deerfield, eh?"
                             "No, I don't think that would be a wise choice."
                             "I've got our suitcases; I guess we'd better go directly to the car."
                             "It's parked around the back. As long as the police are all out front, we should be able to get away without being spotted."
                             "Let's go!" Engrid grabbed the handle of her suitcase and rolled out into the corridor.
                             "I still can't believe they fell for it."
                             "You asked for divine intervention," Engrid smiled.
                             "I didn't expect this."
                             "God works in mysterious ways," Engrid stated.
                             Andrew followed quickly behind as they hurried toward the back stairwell that led to freedom. They might actually be able to get away after all. They hurried down the stairs to the main floor and scooted down the hallway towards the hotel's rear entrance. Engrid kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed and hadn't been spotted by any police who might still be roaming the scene. Andrew hit the metal bar and the door opened.
                    They rushed across the parking lot. Andrew unlocked the trunk and threw the suitcases inside. Once in the car, they crouched down to make sure the coast was clear. Neither saw anything or anyone prowling around. Andrew started the car and backed out of the space. As they turned around the corner of the hotel, Andy was standing in front of his patrol car talking on his cell phone.
                             He noticed their car and thought it odd that they were leaving while she was still in her nightgown and curlers. Engrid made a point not to make eye contact as they drove past the gaggle of patrol cars. Andy noticed that the man driving couldn't be her husband. He was a young guy, not much older than himself. The officer from South Carolina said that it was an old woman traveling with a much, much younger man. As the red Ford Explorer turned onto the street, Andy got all the confirmation he needed. There was a South Carolina license plate staring back at him, palmetto tree and all.
                             "Holy crap!" Andy exclaimed, snapping his cell phone shut, "After them! Those are the folks we're after!" His look of astonishment faded into anger when he realized that he'd been duped. He'd been fooled by a little old lady in a toilet paper box. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation with his superior when it was revealed that he'd shaken hands with the suspect and even had a conversation with her and she still got away. If this cost him a promotion, he really would be outraged at the little old biddy from South Carolina.
                             Andy jumped in his cruiser as the rest of his crew got in their respective patrol cars and sped off after the suspects. His face burned with the humiliation of her deceit. He guided his white Ford Crown Victoria onto Langenhouven Avenue and down the dark Fargo streets, lights and sirens blaring.
                             Andrew looked in the rear-view mirror and was mortified to see that the police were after him. He floored it and tires squalling flew out onto I-94 eastbound and made a beeline for the Minnesota state line. If they could just evade the Fargo Police for just a few more minutes, they could buy themselves a few more minutes before the Minnesotan police could get in gear to block them.
                             Andy van Uuden radioed back to headquarters to report that the suspects were on the run. The staff sergeant on duty called the chief of police yet again.
                             "These people are starting to piss me off," Chief Pendergast growled into the phone, "Get a hold of the Moorhead police and let them know what's going on. I'm going to come into the office. I guess I'll have to oversee this little fiasco myself. I'll be there in 15 minutes." He slammed down the phone.
                             Andrew kept the vehicle moving as fast as he could as the police cars rapidly gained on him. The police pulled alongside them and Andy shouted into his loudspeaker, "Pull over your vehicle immediately!" Andrew and Engrid looked at each other then back at him.
                             "Do it!" Engrid said, "I hope to God he still thinks I'm Mrs. Rebecca Peterson. I might be able to talk him down again."
                             "Andrew Clark Garrison and Engrid Mae Matthews of Deerfield, South Carolina...pull your car over this instant. I will not ask again!"
                             "Oh my goodness he's angry," Engrid observed.
                             "Thank you Captain Obvious. I also think he's figured out who we really are."
                             "Now what are we going to do?" Engrid frantically tried to think of something, but her mind was a blur and she couldn't seem to force herself to focus.
                    "This isn't going well...not well at all," Engrid shook her head, dismayed.
                    "We're almost to safety."
                    "What does that mean?"
                    Andrew pointed up ahead, "Look. I just hope they mean it."
                    Engrid looked up ahead to see what Andrew could possibly be talking about. It took a moment for her to realize what she was seeing. The sign said, "Minnesota Welcomes You!"
                    "I hope they mean it too...we could sure use some welcoming right about now."
                    Engrid and Andrew's car lurched to the side instantly after a loud pop.
                    "They just shot out our tires!" Andrew shouted as their car careened dangerously close to a concrete barricade. He managed to keep the car from crashing into the barricade, but only by inches. The car slid to a stop about three feet past the "Minnesota Welcomes You" sign.
                    Andy slammed on his brakes and the car came to a halt right on the North Dakota side of the state line. He leapt from his vehicle and drew his weapon. He pointed it at the back window of the stationary Explorer.
                    "Get out of the car with your hands up!" he shouted, the anger evident in his voice.
                    There was no immediate response from inside the vehicle.
                    "This is your last warning. I will take it as an act of aggression and open fire if you don't exit the vehicle immediately."
                    He knew he couldn't really do it, but he was hoping they wouldn't call his bluff. Technically, they were in Moorhead, Minnesota so he couldn't do anything...but he hoped they didn't know that. The passenger and driver's side doors slowly opened and the two fugitive escapees stepped out of the car and placed their hands on top of their heads. The jig was up...they'd been caught.
         
         
          Chapter 24
         
         
                    After he hung up the phone from talking to Agent Senson, Evan felt guilty. He realized that he'd just ratted out Andrew. He wondered how long it would take before Andrew was captured.
                    Evan suddenly had a mental image of Andrew being pulled out of a cave all bedraggled like Saddam Hussein when he was finally captured by American troops during the second Gulf War. He pulled out his cell phone. He was curious about the area code. Why would Andrew be calling from North Dakota? He keyed it into the browser of his phone and got the confirmation that that is where he was calling from.
                    Evan scrunched up his face at the phone...Fargo, Cass County, North Dakota?
                    "Oh Andrew, don't tell me you were planning to leave the country? You must be guilty otherwise why on God's green earth would you run so far so fast?"
                    Evan got out of bed and paced around the room. He still felt a little guilty even though all rational reasoning indicated that Andrew was completely and utterly guilty of the crimes of which he'd been accused.
                    During the time when Amanda went missing, he and Engrid were unaccounted for except for the fact that they were going to Columbia to find her...what they were actually up to, no one but them would know for sure. Then Amanda turns up in his self-storage unit and Andrew high tails it towards the Canadian border.
                    Evan picked up the phone and dialed Dora's house. She answered the phone as if she was expecting it to ring.
                    "I hope I didn't wake you."
                    "No...I'm in the living room reading. I tried to sleep, but I'm just too upset. So I'm reading a little bit out of Ecclesiastes."
                    "I'm upset too...I got a call from Andrew."
                    "Really? Where is he?"
                    "Fargo, North Dakota."
                    "What on earth?" Dora sat up in her armchair, her Bible sliding off her lap and crashing to the floor.
                    "He must have been on his way to Canada when his conscience caught up with him."
                    "What did you say?"
                    "I'm not sure...I was dead to the world when he called so I'm a little fuzzy on who said what. I tried to convince him to come home and I think I succeeded."
                    "Do you think we should tell Agent Senson about this?" Dora inquired.
                    "I already did. He's following-up to see if they can find him."
                    "You mean arrest him," she clarified.
                    "As much as I hate to admit it, yes, they will probably arrest him."
                    "I hope he and Engrid don't get hurt. If they get more desperate and scared, who knows what might happen."
                    "You don't think the police would shoot them, do you?" Evan sounded genuinely worried at that prospect.
                    "I don't know, Evan. At this point I guess anything is possible."
                    Evan was silent for a moment. It never occurred to him in his dazed, sleepy state that turning Andrew in to the police might result in his death. The thought that he might have inadvertently gotten Andrew killed was mortifying.
                    While he hoped Andrew was innocent, he was afraid that he might be guilty. If he was guilty of kidnapping that young girl and stuffing her into a tiny self-storage unit, he ought to be shot through the head like a rabid dog.
                    "I hope it doesn't come to that. I keep hoping I'll wake up and this will all be some terrible dream. I keep hoping that I'll wake up and Andrew will be home and none of this will have happened."
                    "That would be ideal...but I think that's a fantasy."
                    "Unfortunately, you're probably right."
                    "I guess we don't have a way to call Andrew to warn him, do we?"
                    "No. I don't want to call the number back because I don't want to implicate myself. That wouldn't help, and I don't want to end up in jail or even under suspicion as an accomplice."
                    "That sounds wise. So, are you going to work tomorrow?"
                    "Yeah...I have to. I need to get my mind off what's happening here."
                    "I understand."
                    "Why are you reading Ecclesiastes? That's such a depressing book, isn't it? You should read something happier...more optimistic."
                    "It is optimistic...sort of...it at least reminds you to keep your priorities in order."
                    "Oh."
                    "It's like this situation, it seems bleak and hopeless, but things will soon turn around and end up working out for the best."
                    "I guess so. Doesn't it start out saying something like, '"Meaningless! Meaningless! Says the Teacher. Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless. What does man gain from all his labor at which he toils under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever.'"
                    "Very good, Evan. What's the last chapter about?" Dora smirked a bit, testing Evan's Bible knowledge at 2am.
                    He scratched his head momentarily, "Something about the dust returns to the earth from which it came and the spirit returns to the God who gave it."
                    "Yes. I thought of poor Andrew and the rest of us when I read the first part of the chapter where it says, "Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, "I find no pleasure in them"- before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars grow dark, and the clouds return after the rain."
                    "See, that's depressing to me."
                   "I suppose so. I find it reassuring because to me, it's the part of the Bible where the writer is talking to me. The rest of the Bible is the writer telling a story about other people and what happened to them...but Ecclesiastes is written to me. Then the very end says, 'Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man. God will bring every deed into judgment- including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.' I just hope Andrew hasn't done anything that would bring judgment."
                   "I don't know, Dora. What if he has?"
                   "It's in God's hands, then. We can't do anything about it."
                   "It's in God's hands," Evan repeated, "On that note, I'm going to sleep."
                    "Me too. We've done everything humanly possible."
                    "Good night."
                    Evan hung up the phone and rolled over in bed, churning on what Dora had said. Dora sat in her armchair in her living room, churning over what Evan had said.
         
         
                    Rather than his mind, it was Andrew's stomach that was churning. He stood on the side of the interstate highway with his hands on top of his head as the police rapidly approached. He looked over at Engrid, who looked panic-stricken as well.
                    He felt the cold, prickly hands of fear running their bony fingers up and down his spine. He looked at Engrid again and muttered, "Where is God now?"
                    Engrid shrugged.
                    Andy grabbed Andrew, spun him around and splayed him across the hood of the car. Pulling his hands back and handcuffing them firmly, he said, "You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Amanda Riverside."
                    Engrid ducked down behind the cover of the car. The police were so focused, guns pointed at Andrew, they didn't notice for a nanosecond that Engrid had ducked out of sight. She slid under the guardrail and slipped and stumbled down the gravel embankment to the surrounding neighborhood. Andy had pressed his luck enough stepping out of his jurisdiction into Minnesotan territory, so he was afraid to pursue Engrid any further.
                    "Stop!" he shouted to her backside. He lifted his pistol in the air and fired a warning shot.
                    Engrid almost peed herself when that gunshot pierced the night. She knew they were shooting at her. She got onto the street as quickly as she could and disappeared into the night. He didn't want to be in the center of some national incident of police overstepping their bounds. That would definitely be the case if she was eventually found innocent. Engrid was now out of sight. Andy's radio crackled.
                    It was the police chief Pendergast. "Are they in custody?"
                    "Andrew Garrison is in custody." A fellow officer escorted Andrew to the cruiser and shoved him into the backseat and slammed the door.
                    "What about the other one?"
                    "She got away."
                    "She what? You mean to tell me that you couldn't catch a 90-year-old woman?"
                    "We were focused on the guy...she's spryer than you think, sir."
                    "I don't care if she's an Olympic track star, you catch her...tonight."
                    "I can't."
                    "Why not?"
                    "She's in Minnesota."
                    "Then get the Moorhead police involved. Do what you need to; I want that woman back in South Carolina before the sun comes up."
                    "Yes sir," Andy replied. He turned back to his team...they'd heard the entire exchange.
                    Andy picked up his cell phone and dialed the Moorhead, Minnesota police.
                    Engrid hurried onto a quiet residential street. She looked behind her as she strode along. The police weren't following her. They were still up on top of the embankment looking angry and distraught. She must be on the Minnesota side of the line. She had to get out of sight before the Moorhead police turned up to catch her.
                    Once she was out of sight of the police-covered embankment, she slowed her stride so she wouldn't draw too much attention. The October air in west-central Minnesota was chiller than she would have liked, her old nightgown didn't retain much heat as a light breeze cut right through down to the skin. She still had her pink curlers in her hair. She hadn't had an opportunity to change since their mad dash from the motor lodge in Fargo.
                    She would soon have to get more clothes, since she had no way of retrieving her old ones from the car. It would surely be impounded and her stuff confiscated. She made her way through the neighborhood of tract houses until she got to the main road that went past the subdivision. The road sign she saw identified the road as US Highway 10.
                    "Okay, God, Andrew doesn't believe in you the way I do, but he asked a pretty good question, where are you? This would be a good time for some help. I'm out here stranded in a strange city thousands of miles from home walking around in my nightgown in the middle of the night. My clothes are gone, I have no transportation, no place to sleep, no people who will help me...what do I do?"
                    She walked along the highway, not sure what she should do. The cold night air was settling deeper into her bones. She would have to find clothing and shelter soon. Her elderly body wouldn't last long out here in the elements.
                    "What do you want me to do?" she kept asking God, "Please help me find some clothes...I'm getting so cold out here."
                    She came to an intersection. It was where Highway 10 intersects 34th Street. She looked around, uncertain where to go from there. Looking up 34th street, she saw the most merciful thing she'd seen all day. It was a sign that she would be provided for.
                    She dug around in the pocket of her nightgown. She'd somehow put her cash and a credit card in that pocket. She didn't remember doing it but at some point, she must have slipped it in there. Now she was grateful it was there. She walked quickly north on the street towards the blue sign that made her heart sing on that dark, cold night.
                    "Wal-Mart Supercenter 24 Hours..." Those were the most beautiful words she'd ever read on a sign in her life. Her pace quickened as the cold continued to settle in. She rubbed her hands together to create as much frictional heat as she could to keep away hypothermia as the temperature dipped into the 30's, the hem of her thin nightgown flapping in the increasing wind.
                    To some it would not seem a miracle, but to Rebecca Peterson, nee Engrid Matthews, it was nothing less than divine intervention. She passed other shopping centers, dark and closed for the night, but the Wal-Mart stood brightly aglow, as though a mirage on a cold, deserted evening.
                    Engrid came into the parking lot and slipped behind a dumpster. She at least had to get the curlers out of her hair. While she was running short, she did have some dignity and personal pride left. She slipped the curlers out of her hair and fluffed her hair with her fingers a little bit to make it less obvious that her hair had not been properly coiffed.
                    She stuffed the pink curlers into the pockets of her gown and moved back around to the front of the store. The automatic glass doors slid back effortlessly to reveal the bright, colorful, fluorescent lit interior of the mammoth big-box retailer. Engrid tried not to make eye contact with anyone. She was embarrassed beyond words to be seen in public in such a terrible state of disrepair. However, at that late hour, it was an injustice she would just have to suffer.
                    Once inside, she walked around the racks of clothes finding things that were about her size and were not bad looking. After she'd found a thick sweater, a pair of jeans, a tuque, a pair of gloves and a coat, she went and selected some athletic shoes and thermal socks that would help her begin her life as a bag lady in Minnesota. Engrid took her new outfit along with a few cozy undergarments to the check-out register.
                    The clerk behind the counter didn't seem concerned until he looked down. He clicked on the flashing light to indicate that he would be requiring some assistance. Engrid looked around. There were no other customers around and thus she wasn't sure what was going on. Her blood pressure spiked as it dawned on her; the police had already caught up with her.
                    It seemed so obvious now...the police knew she was dressed in a nightgown and they knew that she would probably stumble onto the local Wal-Mart, they'd contacted store security and so they knew the instant she walked in who she was and what was going on. Her face reddened as the fear of being caught settled in on her. When was that poor old woman going to catch a break?
                    A stern looking woman approached, the cashier turned and ushered the stern looking woman to just out of earshot. They had a whispered conversation while glancing furtively in her direction. It was clear that neither was completely sure how to handle the situation. They were probably stalling until the police came blazing through the door and hauled her away. She thought about running, but maybe this was just some silly mix-up that would be easily resolved.
         
         
          Chapter 25
                    Andrew felt the cold metal hood of the car with its complement of bug guts grinding into his face, his rights being recited. The cold sucked every bit of warmth from his face. He could see the smokestacks of human breath as the officers and he breathed into the frigid night air. The puffs of his breath being blown away in the increasing wind of the night.
                    The cold metal of the handcuffs wrapped their unforgiving fingers around his wrists. He was jerked up and shoved in the direction of the waiting patrol car. The door yanked open, he was thrust inside. He watched the goings on outside. Where was Engrid? She'd disappeared.
                    He heard the police shouting and scrambling that she was getting away. He watched in horror as Andy lifted his pistol from its holster. Engrid was about to be gunned down. But Andy lifted the pistol high in the air and fired a warning shot. Despite having seen it coming, Andrew still jumped at the sharp crack of the gun. His heart raced...would Engrid be shot if she didn't stop running? Would she die running for her life?
                    After a few moments, an officer jumped behind the wheel of the car and started the engine. They went up an embankment of the exit to turn around and head back to Fargo. He watched through the window and saw Engrid's tiny frame moving quickly beneath the streetlights beside a row of homes.
                    The squad car made its return on the overpass and headed back down onto the lanes of the freeway. He could see the glowing lights of Fargo as they passed over the Red River separating the two states. Andrew sat back in the seat. There was nothing more he could do. The race was over and he'd lost.
                    At long last he'd been caught. There was a sense of relief as the realization set in that he was no longer in control of the situation. He was no longer responsible for its outcome. It seemed silly that he'd ever deluded himself into thinking he was in control of it. The lateness of the hour and the stress of the past few days caught up with him as the hum of the car engine continued and the interior of the car grew warm.
                    Even though it was only a few minutes' drive from the scene to the police station, Andrew almost found himself dozing off. The car bumped over a few rumble strips and rolled into the police station parking lot. He jerked back to attention as the car pulled up to the back of the station. He was extracted from the car and led in his bondage up the back steps and into the building.
                    The attending officers got him processed, fingerprinted, mug shot, orange jumpsuit, and all the accoutrements of incarceration. Andrew said no more than he absolutely had to. He didn't want to say anything to anyone. All he wanted to do was get some sleep. Preferably at home, but for the moment, a North Dakotan jail cell would have to do. He was led down the bleak corridor and placed in a cell about midway down.
                    It was a blank little box with cinderblock walls, two gunmetal gray bunk beds covered in navy blue woolen blankets, and a toilet sitting out where the whole world could watch him use it. Privacy was not even an option. As badly as he had to go, it was an embarrassment he might just have to endure at the hands of his captors.
                    When the officers locked the doors and left the corridor, Andrew listened quietly to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity. This must be some holding area before transfer, since there didn't seem to be anyone else penned up in here. Once he was reasonably certain he was alone, he utilized the 'facilities' and settled himself down on the bottom bunk.
                    Once quiet had set in, he had time to think. The first and only image in his mind was that of Evan...a heartbroken Evan sitting alone in that big house, wondering where his lover had vanished to. Andrew thought about how much he loved Evan. Quite frankly, he'd been so caught up in his own problems, he really hadn't stopped to think how all this would affect Evan. He felt guilty that he'd given more thought to Engrid than Evan. Like an abandoned child, Evan must be wondering what he did to make Andrew leave him so cavalierly. Evan must think that he isn't really loved by anyone.
                    "I'm sorry," Andrew said to the bottom of the top bunk, "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Evan. I hope one day you can forgive me."
                    Andrew rolled over on the itchy woolen blanket and cried. He was so lonely, afraid and wracked with guilt. The coolness of the cell crept in on him and he rolled up in the blanket to get warm. He was still haunted by what he did to Evan in leaving him without a word or a warning. He wouldn't blame him if Evan hated him and left him forever. He looked up and saw a small piece of paper crammed into the metal slats holding the upper bunk up. He reached up and extracted the little sliver from its perch.
         
         
          Chapter 26
                    Meanwhile, back at Wal-Mart, the stern looking woman approached Engrid while the mousy clerk kept his distance.
                    "Please come with me." She motioned for Engrid to come.
                    Engrid looked around and then came towards her, leaving her items on the counter by the till. The woman took her through a nondescript metal door to an equally nondescript little room with a folding table and two chairs. She sat down in one chair and motioned for Engrid to do the same. Engrid did, though not with any excitement, only with the dread of impending doom.
                    "My name is Marguerite, what's yours?"
                    "Engrid," she said, nervously fiddling with the edges of her nightgown.
                    "It's nice to meet you, Engrid. What brings you out here this late?"
                    "Um...I decided to beat the crowd and come in at night."
                    "Okay. Please show me what you have in your pockets."
                    "My pockets?" Engrid was genuinely confused by the request.
                    "Yes...your nightgown's pockets are bulging. We've been having some theft lately. Please remove what is in your pockets."
                    "Oh." She pulled out her curlers and sat them on the table, "This is all. I forgot to take them out before I left the house."
                    Marguerite looked at the items. "You're sure that's all you have in your pockets?"
                    "Yes...except my money of course...to pay for the items I was purchasing." Engrid held up the wad of rubber banded cash Andrew had given her in Knoxville.
                    "I'm sorry to have bothered you," Marguerite's expression softened now that she wasn't dealing with a potential shoplifter.
                    "It's okay. I guess I do look a little odd, being in a nightgown and all."
                    "This time of night, we get all sorts of people coming in."
                    "I'm sure you do."
                    "Do you have a place to go? There's a winter storm moving into town overnight tonight. You can't stay outside."
                    "Already? It's not even November yet."
                    "Winter comes early to this part of the world. Where are you from?"
                    "South Carolina."
                    The clerk was visibly surprised, "How on earth did you get all the way up here?"
                    "Very long story...so there's a winter storm tonight?"
                    "Yes. It's supposed to have already started snowing. I guess the storm is slower than they were predicting. I mean no offence, but I can call some people and see if I can get you into a shelter tonight. If you don't have somewhere to go, that is.
                    "I would appreciate it. How do you know people at homeless shelters?"
                    "I volunteer through my church. The church runs one during cold weather. I will call the pastor and see if there's room. If not, you can stay with me."
                    "That would be wonderful."
                    "You're welcome. I'm sorry we thought you might be a shoplifter."
                    "That's okay. I would have done the same if I saw someone in this shape at the register."
                    "Let me take you back out to the register. I'm sure Derek is finished ringing up your purchases by now." Marguerite stood and guided Engrid back out to the register where Derek was waiting, her purchases rung up and bagged. She paid cash for the items and he handed her her first bags of being a bag lady. Engrid took them and smiled.
                    She turned to Marguerite, "Can I go into the restroom to change?"
                    "Yes," Marguerite turned and walked away, presumably to call her pastor.
                    Derek already had another customer approaching and turned to offer his services again. Engrid hurried into the restroom and changed out of her nightgown and into the clothes she'd bought. She donned her coat and headed out of the store and back into the night. She decided she couldn't risk a shelter. Given what happened with Amanda, she figured they might look for her in a homeless shelter.
                    She felt somewhat guilty for running off on Marguerite and her generous offer. The wind had begun to pick up and Engrid was quite grateful for her warm clothes. She'd lived in South Carolina so long that cold weather was not to her liking. In South Carolina, this was dead of winter if it even got that cold then. The temperature was dropping fast. Engrid hurried into the darkness at the edge of the parking lot, out of range of the security cameras. She would have to get somewhere warm...and soon.
                    As she walked along the street, a light flurry began to trickle out of the night sky. The aforementioned winter storm was beginning to roll into western Minnesota. Before she could make it to the traffic light at the corner of Highway 10 and 34th Street North, the snow was falling at a pretty fast clip.
                    The wind was picking up fast, blowing the white tendrils around her legs. Before she got to the street, she heard police sirens. She ducked into a parking lot and hid behind a tree.
                    She peeked out from behind the tree, "What is this? Some kind of test?"
                    The police passed by and sped off into the night. The snow was coming down hard now. The dry, icy flakes stung her face. She kept walking. She needed to keep moving so she could stay warm. Perhaps she should have taken Marguerite up on her offer of shelter for the night. Surely jail couldn't be worse than freezing to death out here in the cold.
                    Engrid walked and walked, hoping to find something. The cold and snow were playing on her mind. Several times, she thought she saw shadows moving. But it was probably just a trick of the light. The wind was a whistle now, quickly approaching scream as the snow relentlessly and mercilessly blew in her face.
                    She heard a loud sound approaching from behind her. She vowed not to turn around...for some reason she was now paranoid that whatever it was, it meant her only harm. No good could come from turning around. The large 18-wheeler roared to a stop a few yards ahead of her. The driver got out, wrapped his coat tight around his robust frame, and approached the diminutive old woman in the driving snow.
                    "You shouldn't be out here, ma'am. I will drive you home. Where do you live?"
                    "No," she replied, "I'm fine."
                    "Seriously, ma'am, this storm is going to get a lot worse. You need to head home. Where do you live?"
                    "Winnipeg," she replied, "I'm lost and my car broke down."
                    "Where is your car?"
                    "I don't know. I've been walking for hours, I have no idea where I am," Engrid's eyes welled up with tears as the desperation set in.
                    "Get in my truck, please. At least it's warm in there."
                    Engrid approached the large rig, its stack billowing a white cloud of exhaust into the frigid air. Once inside, the trucker gave her some hot cocoa from his thermos.
                    "I'm Olaf Gunnunderson, what's your name?"
                    "Engrid."
                    "It's nice to meet you, Engrid."
                    She looked out of the window.
                    "Engrid, let me level with you, I don't think you're really from Winnipeg."
                    "Why is that?"
                    "Anyone from around here or central Canada knows that you don't leave your vehicle during a snowstorm. Only a person from a warmer climate would make that mistake."
                    "It was a mistake to leave my vehicle, wasn't it?"
                    "Yes. You could have died out there. But I'll make sure you survive the night."
                    "Thank you, Olaf...that's very kind of you."
                    "You're welcome. Now, where are you really from?"
                    "Deerfield, South Carolina."
                    "How did you end up here?"
                    "I'm running away."
                    "Ah...who or what are you running away from?"
                    "The police...they think I did something I didn't do."
                    "Why do they think you did it if you didn't?"
                    "Actually, I'm not sure if I'm the one who is accused."
                    "Then why are you the one wandering the streets in the middle of the night?"
                    "He was arrested, and I made a run for it."
                    "But you're innocent...why didn't you just go with him? Now you look guilty."
                    "I know, I know, it was stupid, but I was scared and in a blind panic. I just did, okay?"
                    "Okay, okay. It's fine now. Where do you want me to take you?"
                    "I don't know. You can drop me off wherever you feel like."
                    "If you're innocent and not accused, then I should take you to the police station, so you can bail your friend out of jail."
                    "No, no, that's the last place I want to go."
                    "I can take you to get something to eat."
                    "That would be nice."
                    "I'll take you to the diner at a truck stop out on the interstate. Maybe we can get you set up with a ride back to South Carolina."
                    "If I wanted to go back to South Carolina, I could turn myself in."
                    "I thought you were innocent?"
                    "I am. But the police don't seem to know that."
                    "I think you should go to the police and straighten this whole mess out. But that's just my opinion. I'll take you wherever you want to go."
                    Engrid said nothing for a few minutes. She weighed her options. "Okay."
                    "The police station is only a few miles from here."
                    "It's the police station in Fargo."
                    "Oh, okay. That'll take a few minutes more, but it's not far across the river." Olaf Gunnunderson put his rig in gear and drove off down the street. Engrid was grateful to be out of that wicked wind. The truck moved through the deepening snow and merged onto the deserted intestate heading back to North Dakota and judgment day.
                    Engrid said nothing for the remainder of the trip. Olaf didn't want to know more, just in case. Engrid found it slightly disturbing that Mr. Gunnunderson knew precisely where the Fargo Police Department was located.
                    "This is it," he announced.
                    "The end of the road," Engrid mumbled to herself and got out of the truck. She jumped down to the pavement and made her way cautiously through the snow to the door. Olaf watched until she disappeared safely inside. He drove away leaving Engrid to her fate while he went to that diner at the truck stop out on the interstate to get some food.
                    Engrid pulled open the door and stepped in out of the wind. The young man behind the desk greeted her, "Good evening!"
                    "Good? Well I guess I'm alive, I suppose that's good."
                    "Yes, it is," he smiled, "What can I help you with?"
                    "Well, I'm here to see someone who was recently arrested.
                    "What's your name?"
                    "E...my name is Rebecca Peterson. I'm here to see Andrew Garrison."
                    "Andrew Garrison...the guy they just brought in."
                    "Yes, he was arrested on the freeway a few hours ago. I'm his, um, grandmother."
                    "Okay, ma'am. Wait just a moment."
                    "Okay."
                    "You can have some coffee while you wait, if you want."
                    "That would be nice," she walked over to the little service table and fixed herself a Styrofoam cup of hot, stale coffee. The polite young man disappeared into the back of the station. Engrid glanced around. A much older, gruffer man appeared, "I'm Chief Pendergast, what do you want?"
                    "I want to bail Andrew Garrison out of jail. I'm his grandmother, Rebecca Peterson."
                    "I'm afraid you can't do that. Bail has not been set yet."
                    "Can I see him?"
                    "Just a minute..." As Chief Pendergast flipped through some papers, an all too familiar face appeared in the doorway to the back.
                    "Get her!" the voice yelled as Andy van Uuden came bursting through the door.
                    "What?" Pendergast barked at his young charge.
                    Andy rushed ahead as Engrid turned to flee, her nerve giving out. Andy grabbed her by the arm and spun her around."
                    "This is her."
                    "This is Rebecca Peterson, you idiot."
                    "It's an alias, sir, I was eye to eye with this woman... This is Engrid Matthews."
                    He shoved her in front of Chief Pendergast, "This is the woman who escaped...twice."
                    "Call the South Carolina people and let them know we have them both in custody."
                    Andy put the cuffs on her and took her to the back. He tossed her into a holding cell. On the bunk was a lump under the covers. Andrew peeked out, he'd fallen asleep.
                    "What are you doing here?" He asked.
                    "I gave up. We've been beat, Andrew. I guess this is just our fate."
                    "Fate? That's not Engrid."
                    "I know...but God sure has vanished tonight." Engrid said grumpily.
                    "Not necessarily."
                    She looked over at him, the annoyance clear on her face, "What is that supposed to mean?"
                    "I've been sitting in this little jail cell thinking."
                    "Okay. I've been out there freezing my ta-tas off running from the police."
                    "Well, when I laid down here to go to sleep, I found this stuck in the metal thing holding the upper bunk up." He handed her a little crumpled piece of paper.
                    She read, "If I am guilty, woe to me...even if I am innocent, I cannot lift my head...I am drowning in my affliction."
                    "I wonder what that is."
                    "It sounds like something from Job."
                    "That's the one who suffers because God was bored." Andrew said with a smirk.
                    Engrid chuckled, "No...not exactly, it was about a man who suffers unjustly because of Satan, the adversary."
                    "I know. As Evan says, 'I'm the son of a preacher man.'"
                    "I guess you were the only one who could ever reach him," she said, paraphrasing the song.
                    "Regale me with the tale. It's not like we have anything else to do." Andrew said.
                    "In the story, the devil goes to God and tells him that Job is only faithful because God has been good to him. So, God lets the devil test Job to prove that Job will be faithful regardless. The story then is that Job suffers terribly, and his friends tell him that obviously he's suffering because he sinned. Even his wife tells him the same thing. But the reality is that God sees that Job is still faithful despite all that the devil does to him, so he rewards Job."
                    "Excellent. You could have been a preacher man yourself."
                    Andrew leaned back on his bunk, "So Job remained faithful and it all worked out in the end. I guess that's a good thing."
                    Engrid smiled, "It is."
                    "Are you Job?" Andrew asked.
                    "It would appear, as of late" Engrid replied, "God has indeed been good to me all my life. I had a wonderful childhood, a loving husband, good children, a long and healthy life. I guess this is just a way of checking up on me to make sure I'm faithful regardless. I wasn't. I flunked."
                    "What do you mean?" Andrew said, having not anticipated that response.
                    "While I was out in the blizzard, I thought that God had abandoned me. All the bizarre series of events that have happened, all spawned by a good deed done by us it was just too much. All I could think about was a passage we studied in Sunday School last week. It goes, "I say to God my Rock, 'Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?' My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, "Where is your God?" Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.'"
                    "I guess that was me."
                    Engrid looked over at him.
                    "When we were about to be arrested, I asked, 'Where is God now?' I said it."
                    Engrid looked thoughtful for a moment, "I guess you did. At the time, it didn't register, but maybe that's why it popped into my head later."
                    "What does it mean?"
                    "I don't know. Maybe this is just some big cosmic test. If it is, thus far we're both failing miserably."
                    "I don't know. We haven't cursed God and died yet."
                    "No, but that's a pretty low bar." Engrid said.
                    "So, when do we turn the corner?"
                    "What corner?"
                    "When did Job's suffering end and the blessings come back around? I don't remember that part," Andrew admitted.
                    "I don't remember either. Job and God go back and forth...arguing I guess...Job says, 'how could you' and God says, 'because I can and who are you to even ask me that?' But I really don't remember right now when the shift occurs. I think it might be at the very end."
                    "Because I can. That about sums it up. It's like a parent saying, 'Because I said so.'" Andrew said.
                    "The point of it all is that God has free will too and doesn't need our approval for what he does."
                    "I guess God can do whatever he wants."
                    "If you created the universe and everything in it, I guess you could pretty much do what you want. It seems unfair to us, but then who am I? God's been around since infinity...I've only been here less than a century. I do well to keep a few marigolds alive while God keeps the whole universe going."
                    Andrew laid on the bunk and stared up. Engrid paced the floor of the cell, her nerves still jangled by all that had happened. She was disappointed in herself that she hadn't been more trusting, but then some off-the-wall stuff had happened to her lately. She walked over to the bars and looked down the corridor.
                    "I wonder what will happen to us in the morning." Andrew asked aloud.
                    "I don't know. We'll probably be taken back to South Carolina to face charges for kidnapping that girl. I don't know what else could happen."
                    "This will all work out okay," Andrew said, sitting up on the bunk.
                    "How do you know that?"
                    "I don't know. I just do. You know how you get a feeling sometimes."
                    "After all this, you really think this is going to work out okay?"
         Andrew thought about it for a moment, "Yes...yes I do."
                    Andrew smiled and leaned back down on the bunk. "You should get some sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow." He stretched out his arms, interlaced his fingers and cradled the back of his head in his hands.
                    Andrew chuckled.
                    "What?" Engrid asked.
                    "That song, 'Son of a Preacher Man.' Evan sang that at karaoke a few weeks ago."
                    Engrid laughed, "Evan sang karaoke?"
                    "Yes. However cool and awesome people think Evan is, he's ten times cooler and more awesome than they think."
                   "If Evan doesn't take you back, he's an idiot," Engrid said, "Just a friendly observation."
                    She climbed up into the top bunk and lay down. She tossed and turned and waited for morning. Sometime after she dozed off, the metal door at the end of the corridor opened. She rolled over and tried to see who it was. It was the polite young man from the front desk earlier in the evening. He had a set of keys in his hand. What could he be up to?
                    He stopped in front of their cell, "Mrs. Matthews...Mr. Garrison, it's time to wake up."
                    Andrew sleepily rolled over as Engrid began her descent to the floor.
                    "Where do we go from here?" she asked, "Can I have a shower?"
                    "Yes. You can bathe, if you want to, then where you go is up to you."
                    "What does that mean?"
                    "It means that you are free to go."
                    Engrid and Andrew looked blank.
                    "The girl you were accused of kidnapping insists that neither of you are involved. She was kidnapped by someone else."
                    "Are you serious?" Andrew said, instantly awake and standing.
                    "Yes. We got the phone call from Agent Senson of South Carolina's State Law Enforcement Division this morning, all charges are dropped, and you are free to go home."
                    "Thank you!" Engrid gushed, "I can't believe it. You were right, Andrew. This did all work out just fine."
                    "It turns out she was coerced by her drug dealer. You two are now the heroes of the story since you rescued her."
                    "I can't believe it!" Engrid cried.
                    "Your car is being brought back from the impound lot and will be ready for you in 20 minutes. I have some bagels and coffee out front if you're interested."
                    He unlocked the door and escorted them further down the hallway.
                    "Where are we going?"
                    "To get your shower. By the time you finish, your car should be ready to go."
                    Engrid went in the women's side and Andrew into the men's shower area. Engrid felt light as a feather as she washed her hair and soaped off that wretched night that she would never forget but wished she could. The fear, the panic, the dread, all melted away as she cleaned herself thoroughly in the heat of that shower water.
                    As she got dressed, life never felt better. This day was going to be one of the happiest of her life. She ate the best bagel she could imagine with the most flavorful cream cheese she'd ever tried followed by the tastiest cup of coffee on the planet. As she approached freedom, her body felt youthful as a teenager. She and Andrew pushed through the glass doors onto the white expanse of Fargo, North Dakota.
                    "Engrid,"
                    "Yes Andrew..."
                    "Let's go home."
                    "We're going home!" Engrid said gleefully, clapping her hands together.
         
         
         
         
          Chapter 27
                   Evan awoke early and went through the motions of preparing for another day as a high school English teacher. The class was going over poetic forms, but with all that had happened, Evan wasn't sure he could even feign interest in iambic pentameter. He stood over the kitchen sink munching on toast covered with strawberry jam that Andrew had made of the summer and looking out of the window at the side of Engrid's house.
                    "Evan? Are you home?" Dora's voice echoed down the central hallway.
                    "I'm in the kitchen,"
                    Moments later, Dora appeared in the doorway, "I've got good news."
                    "What's that?"
                    "Agents Mortar and Senson dropped the charges against Engrid and Andrew. They received the good news about a half hour ago."
                    "Where were they?"
                    "In a holding cell at the Fargo Police Department."
                    "They were in jail?"
                    "I don't know any details other than that they are no longer suspects in the case and that they have been informed of such. I suppose they'll start heading home now."
                    "I guess."
                    "You don't sound excited."
                    "I am. I'm just not sure what to do."
                    "What do you mean?"
                    "Andrew ran off. He didn't love me enough to say goodbye or see you later or sorry about this or thanks for the memories or anything. He just vanished into the night. I'm not sure what I'm going to do."
                    "When you see him again, all will be forgiven."
                    "I hope so."
                    "It will be. Once you see him again, the Ice King's heart will melt all over again."
                    "That's the cheesiest thing I think I've ever heard." Evan groused.
                    "I'm sure it is. Well, I have to get to the library."
                    "I have to get to school."
                    "Then you'd better hurry!" she said and turned to leave.
                    "Dora,"
                    "Yes, Evan?"
                    "Thank you."
                    "For what?"
                    "For being here through all this."
                    "As long as there is breath in me, I'll always be here for you. You know that." She smiled and headed towards the front door and to her life beyond, out there in the world. After the events of the past few days, ordinary life felt foreign. It was as if a century had passed since the police first knocked on his door.
                    After breakfast, he went upstairs to get dressed for the day ahead. He grabbed his attachcase of books and papers and away he went, to educate America's youth.
                    Dora walked back across to her own vehicle and drove off for her day of volunteering at the library. She had some shelving to do, so that the librarians could focus on the things that they do rather than having to shelve all those books by themselves.
         
         
                    Back in Fargo, Engrid and Andrew were positively beside themselves. Andrew got behind the wheel of the Explorer and took off. Engrid looked in the side view mirror and was indescribably happy to see the police station disappear behind the trees and the urban structures of downtown Fargo. She figured she'd never set foot in Fargo ever again and she was absolutely fine with that.
                    Andrew broke the elated silence, "Engrid, where did you go last night? I was standing there being arrested and the next thing I knew you were gone. I thought at first you'd been killed because you disappeared and then I heard shooting and yelling. I was terrified that you were dead."
                    "I wasn't dead. I nearly froze to death though because of that blizzard that rolled through. There I was in the cold and dark with nothing but my nightgown and a pair of bloomers on. Thank God I found a Wal-Mart and managed to get into some warmer clothes."
                    "That sounds awful!"
                    "Trust me, it was, but it's over now."
                    "What'd they think of you barging in with just your 'nightgown and bloomers on'?"
                    "They thought I was a shoplifter. This woman named Marguerite, she turned out to be fairly nice, but she was pretty gruff when she thought I was stealing from her. Then when she found out I was a legitimate shopper, she offered to call her pastor and get me a place in the homeless shelter the church operates."
                    "Oh my goodness, they thought you were homeless?" Andrew couldn't help but smile, "And I thought I had a rough evening being thrown in the slammer."
                    "At least your life wasn't in danger."
                    "No, I guess it wasn't. I'm glad you're safe now."
                    "Me too...me too..." She trailed off into thought before continuing
                    Andrew grinned, "Dora and Evan will never believe that story about you evading the police by sliding under the guardrail and running through the streets."
                    "At least I didn't hide in an ice machine."
                    "You hid in an ice machine as large as all outdoors."
                    "Good point." Engrid nodded her head. I'm hungry. I burned off a month's worth of calories last night. Can we stop at the next place we come to and eat?"
                    "Sure...they were still in Moorhead, so the next spot was only a few miles down the road. Andrew pulled off and drove them to a small diner at a truck stop. It didn't look too fancy, but, at the moment, neither cared. They were just happy to be free.
                    Andrew pulled right up to the front of the restaurant.
                    "Is this okay?"
                    "Yes! It's a greasy spoon but right now it looks like a five-star paradise." Engrid quickly got out and rushed through the door, out of the bitter cold and into the welcome warmth of the truck stop diner.
                    Once inside, she and Andrew sat in a booth to further discuss their travails of the previous evening. As Engrid was telling Andrew about hiding behind a tree when the police came by, she stopped mid-sentence. She looked over his shoulder at an approaching man.
                    "Engrid!" he called out, "I'm glad to see you're okay!"
                    "Thanks," she replied, "You were right, I went and got the whole mess straightened out."
                    "I'm glad to hear it! Are you heading home from here?"
                    "Yes...next stop is my house in South Carolina! I cannot wait to get out of this frigid mess and back into the sunny south where I belong."
                    "Well, safe travels! Who's your friend?"
                    "This is Andrew, Andrew, this is Olaf. He is a truck driver who rescued me from the blizzard last night."
                    "I'm just glad I could help." With that he walked off, pushing open the door he headed out into the whiteness toward his big rig parked on the far side of the lot.
                    Once he'd walked beyond earshot, Andrew smirked, "You made a friend."
                    "You know me...always looking for a friend."
                    "So, he rescued you last night?"
                    "Yes. He spotted me walking down the street and picked me up."
                    "So, you were a streetwalker. One night out on your own and you start picking up tricks."
                    Engrid looked playfully scandalized, "I was doing nothing of the sort. He convinced me to turn myself in and that it would all work out in the end."
                    "I told you that last night."
                    "But Olaf told me first."
                    "Anyway, I take it he's the one who drove you to the police station."
                    "Yes. You didn't think I'd walked, did you?"
                    "How would you have found it? You wouldn't have known where the Fargo police department was. You've walked around all night and not found it."
                    "Well, that was a disturbing thing in itself...Olaf knew precisely where it was. He drove straight to it without any mistaken turns."
                    "He'd probably been in the clink for picking up streetwalkers before," Andrew laughed at his own joke at Engrid's expense.
                    "Perhaps...the French toast looks good."
                    "Nice segue." Andrew picked up his own menu and glanced at it as the waitress approached. He was quite hungry and they had an exceedingly long drive ahead of them.
                                                 
         
         
          Chapter 28
         
         
                   Dylan sat in his jail cell. Dora had left yesterday and still had not brought word to him about their deal. Was he to be prosecuted for the crimes of which he was guilty? He'd been told about an hour earlier that Engrid and Andrew were off the hook for kidnapping his daughter and that the search for the true villain continued. He worried that nullified their deal, unless Dora got through to Amanda and she recanted.
                   He heard the keys jangling at the end of the cell block, indicating that someone was approaching. He looked to see, hoping it was that old woman coming to tell him the good news- they weren't going to press charges and he was free to go home. It was Agent Senson. He didn't look pleased. Dylan remained seated on the edge of his bunk.
                    "What do you want?" he asked, not really wanting to know.
                    "The deal you made is off. Amanda exonerated both of them. She was coerced by her drug dealer. Regardless, you pulled a gun on innocent people and had a standoff with the police. I cannot just let you go. There is no way to assure the public that you are not a threat. Apparently, Mrs. Murchison and the Graysons trust that you aren't going to try again to kill them, but I'm not so sure. If I agree to let you go, I'm responsible if you do something like this again. Plus, there is the issue of your daughter."
                    "What's that?"
                    "I know that you threw her out of your house and into the streets." Richard said, irritated.
                    "I was wrong to do that, I know that now." Dylan said.
                    "You didn't know it then?"
                    "Yes...I guess I did. I was just angry."
                    "What happens when you get angry again?"
                    "Where is my daughter?" Dylan said, the heat starting to make its way up his neck.
                    "She's safe. She's in a drug rehabilitation center and her grandmother is taking care of her. She'll be fine...it's you that we haven't decided about yet. You avoided my question- what will happen if your daughter upsets you again? What will you do then?"
                    "Nothing stupid- can't a guy learn his lesson and go on with his life?"
                    "Yes, he can. But have you learned your lesson?"
                    "Yes, I have. I'm ready to go back out there in the world and make this right."
                    "You sound like you've been working on this spiel." Agent Senson said, implacably.
                    "It's not a spiel you arrogant prick, this is the truth!" Dylan said, the calm demeaner of the SLED agent really got him riled up.
                    "The truth? Then prove it!"
                    "I can't prove it!" he shouted and slammed his hand on the bars, "How can I prove it unless you let me go?"
                    "My goodness, Mr. Riverside, you seem upset," Agent Senson said mildly.
                    Dylan's face reddened, and his neck and forehead veins bulged, "Upset? UPSET? He yelled and rushed the bars. His hands flew through them to grab at Agent Senson, who took a small step back, just out of reach.
                    "Get out of my face!" A stream of epithets and curse words flew at Agent Senson turned to leave saying, "I think I've made my point."
                    He left the room with Dylan still spewing and steaming behind him. Agent Senson went out into the morning sunlight and drove over to the library. The Deerfield City Library was quite nice. It was a very new building, recently constructed by a grant from the Literary America Society and the South Carolina Arts Council. It was a very nice, brick and mortar design with granite trim around the windows and doorways.
                    The Deerfield City Library was the only library in a three-county area, so it had to keep up with about several hundred patrons per day out of a population of over 50,000. It was two floors and held about 175,000 books on everything from ancient civilizations to the most recent Danielle Steel or John Grisham novel. Dora was quite proud of herself for having brought the library into the 21st Century with electronic catalogs, online databases, and so forth. She'd donated $10,000 to the effort and she spearheaded the training efforts for the staff and volunteers.
                    Dora was at the circulation desk helping a patron find out whether a book was checked out or in the stacks. She didn't appear to notice him at first but smiled and waved once she looked up from her task. The patron walked away from the desk and Agent Senson was greeted much like she would greet anyone who would walk up to the circulation desk.
                    "Can we speak in private?"
                    "Yes. Come with me," she ushered him away from the circulation desk.
                    Dora led him across the central atrium. It had tall oak colonnades and windows looking into the reference room where all the encyclopedias, atlases, dictionaries, and other reference books were housed.
                    She led him to a little spot just beyond the elevator to the second floor. They went into a small office and shut the door. Agent Senson was rather impressed. He looked at her desk, her name plate said, "Dora Murchison, Director of Acquisitions and Antiquities."
                    "I thought you just volunteered here?"
                    "I do. I'm retired. I am a professional librarian by trade. I worked in Columbia for 35 years as the state archivist. I oversaw keeping the records for the state legislature. I also did a lot of work for the historical society."
                    "Impressive."
                    "So, Agent Senson, what brings you to our little literary corner?"
                    "I talked to Dylan a few minutes ago."
                    "And?"
                    "He blew up and started yelling and cursing. He even reached through the bars like he wanted to strangle me."
                    Dora sat back in her chair, "Oh...that's not good."
                    "No, it isn't. Even if it was up to us, we would still need to charge him. It would not be safe for you, his daughter or anyone else involved in this to have him loose.
                    "Well, if he's unrepentant and lashing out like that at you, you have my support, especially now that Andrew and Engrid have been exonerated."
                    "Thank you. We will probably need your testimony."
                    "You have it."
                    "I guess that's all I wanted to say."
                    "Agent Senson, may I ask you a question?"
                    "Of course. I may not be able to answer, but I'll tell you what I can," he had a slight twinkle. It was the first hint of mirth he'd displayed since this whole awful debacle began.
                    "Do you think he would have gone through with it? I mean, in your professional opinion, do you think that he would have killed Myrtle and Evan if we hadn't intervened?"
                    "I'm almost certain of it. There's no way to know for sure, but I really do think he would have."
                    Dora shifted her weight in her chair. "Then I guess it's a good thing it worked out the way it did. I would hate to think that he would have murdered someone. I remember the night of the ill-fated dinner party. He seemed so polite and charming at first. Then, it was like a light switch turned. He just became this raving madman, practically foaming at the mouth. I guess we caught a glimpse of what you described happened at the police station before you came over here."
                    "He's definitely not stable. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to see that."
                    "Do you think he might benefit from psychiatric help? I think that might be more beneficial than a prison sentence. I know he might still be a danger, and that's why I support the prosecution, but maybe a temporary insanity plea might be the way to go. Maybe Amanda isn't the only one in need of a little rehabilitation."
                    "That's between him, his defense attorney, and the judge. We have no say in the matter whatsoever."
                    Dora nodded her understanding, "I'm just glad he showed his true colors."
                    "Well, I need to go back to my office and catch up on some things," Agent Senson stood to leave, then sat back down again.
                    "Is everything okay?" Dora asked, "You look conflicted."
                    "I really shouldn't say."
                    "Say what? You can't leave me hanging now," Dora said, smiling but confused.
                    "It's Evan."
                    "What about him?"
                    "I like him."
                    "Evan's a likeable guy. I like him too."
                    "No, I mean I like him, like him. As in I kind of wish Andrew was guilty and out of the picture."
                    Richard flushed a bit.
                    "I wondered. I saw you two talking and you seemed to be sweet on him."
                    "Sweet on him?"
                    "I learned English a long time ago." Dora said, chuckling.
                    "I know it's foolish," Richard said.
                    "It isn't. You want to be with someone. I get that. You are a good person, so I'm sure you'll get a good one someday. I've known Evan all his life. He's the best there is, no question, but your someone is out there too. I just know it."
                    "Thank you. I don't know why I felt like I had to tell someone you and you seem trustworthy."
                    "I am." Dora said.
                    "Well, that's all. Thank you for your time," he said, switching back to Agent Senson mode.
                    Dora escorted him to the door.
                    "Thank you for dropping by and telling me this in person."
                    "You're welcome."
                    Dora sat behind her desk at the Deerfield City Library thinking about the bullet they'd dodged by Agent Senson's sharp mind. He'd gotten Dylan to break rather easily. It was a good thing he was likely to be locked up for a very long time.
                    Perhaps Amanda would be better off raised by a loving grandmother than by an angry, vengeful father.
                    Dora got back out to the circulation desk and resumed her duties assisting the library patrons with the resources they sought.
         
         
          Chapter 29
         
         
                    Amanda sat upright in her bed and watched her grandmother napping in the vinyl chair in the corner. Cecelia was startled awake when the nurse entered the room.
                    "Cecilia, can I speak with you?"
                    "Of course," Cecelia lifted herself out of the chair and stretched.
                    Amanda's alert eyes watched the two women as they went out into the hallway. She wondered what they could be conferring about.
                    "Cecilia, Dylan is not going to be released from jail," the nurse whispered her announcement.
                    "Good," Cecilia declared.
                    "He'll be charged with assault and attempted murder."
                    "So, what happens now?"
                    "For the time being, Amanda is in your custody."
                    Cecilia was quiet for a few moments. "I don't know if I can. After what she's been through, I don't know if I can give her the care she needs."
                    "If you can't, is there someone else she can stay with? Believe me- she will be much better off with you than with social services."
                    Cecelia was quiet a few moments longer. "Then I guess I'll do it."
                    "I'm sure Amanda appreciates it. Do you live in Columbia?"
                    "No, I live in Greenville. But my house is plenty big enough. My late husband, her grandfather, was fairly wealthy, so I will make sure she gets into a good school there."
                    "That would be wonderful. Amanda will be able to get her life on track again!"
                    "I hope so. I used to volunteer as a counselor for a church and I've seen people trying to get off drugs. That is a wretched experience for them. I'm just glad those two angels of mercy found her. Can I contact them?"
                    "As soon as the police finish their investigation, you may contact them. Right now, I was told that you cannot because they are not available for comment in the case."
                    "Oh. They don't think that they had anything to do with the kidnapping, do they?"
                    "I don't know. All I know is what the police said. Once they are finished with the investigation, you can contact them."
                    "Okay... I suppose that will just have to do."
                    "So," the nurse continued, "Our discharge planner will meet with you in an hour, if that's okay."
                    "What do we need to discuss?"
                    "She'll go over the procedure for discharging her and there are some release forms for you to sign...that kind of thing. Just some paperwork so you can take Amanda home with you."
                    "Okay. An hour sounds fine. Where do I need to go?"
                    "I'll come back and take you down to her office myself."
                    "Thank you."
                    Cecilia slipped back into her granddaughter's hospital room.
                    "What's going on Granny?"
                    Cecilia smiled; it was the first time since her hospitalization that Amanda had addressed her directly. Cecilia didn't say anything for a moment.
                    "Amanda, honey, you're going to have to stay with me for a while."
                    "I want to go home."
                    "I know, sugar, I know you do. But your dad is still in jail. You're going to be living with me for a while until we can get this whole thing sorted out. It's going to be okay."
                    Amanda leaned back in her bed, the disappointment evident on her face.
                    "When will he be getting out of jail?"
                    "I don't know, but it may be a while."
                    She sniffled. "I want my dad."
                    "I know. I know." Cecilia grabbed Amanda's hand and held it. Cecilia sat on the edge of the bed and held Amanda while she grieved. Cecilia felt like doing some grieving herself, but she had to be strong for Amanda's sake. They couldn't both fall apart.
                    An hour later, Cecilia was still sitting on the side of the bed. Amanda had calmed down again and Cecilia was gently stroking her hair. Externally she was placid, but inside she was torn apart. She was over 70, how could she take care of a 15-year-old girl with substance abuse issues and lesbian tendencies? Well, she decided, she couldn't screw it up any worse than Dylan already had.
                    She would just love the girl and provide for her as best she could while she could. This wasn't quite how she'd envisioned her remaining years, but she had to do what she had to do. She wasn't about to let social services have her. Who knew what kind of mess that would make?
                    There was a knock at the door and the nurse poked her head in, "Ready?"
                    Cecilia quietly exited into the hallway, "As ready as I'm going to be, I suppose."
                    The nurse smiled sympathetically and led the way to the discharge planner's cubicle.
         
         
          Chapter 30
                    It was Engrid's turn to drive. Andrew couldn't find their cell phones in the car. Neither could remember what happened to them. They could have been left in the hotel room before the escape. They could be hiding under the seats or in the trunk where they couldn't be found. Andrew felt guilty for not calling home, but they'd been unsuccessful in finding a pay phone.
                    They'd asked a few gas station patrons to use their phones, but of course Andrew understood their refusal. He'd never let a total stranger at a gas station borrow his cell phone either. So, they kept driving. So far, they'd made it as far as Iowa in a day. Not a bad day's drive. They should be home tomorrow.
                    They would definitely call from the hotel room and let Dora and Evan know that they were safe and sound and on their way home. Andrew hoped that Evan wouldn't be too mad. He couldn't blame him if he never spoke to him again, but somehow, he just knew that wouldn't happen. So, he stared out the window focusing on nothing while Engrid guided the small automobile through the vast prairie land of central Iowa on route back home.
                    They pulled off at a small motel by the interstate. They just wanted a clean place to sleep and a telephone.
                    Evan had fixed himself some food and sat in the living room eating it while watching some old rerun on television. While he was chomping on a bite of his sandwich, the phone rang. He swallowed it with the assistance of some water and answered the phone.
                    "Hello?"
                    "Evan, it's Andrew."
                    "Are you okay?" Evan sounded abrupt.
                    "I'm fine...are you mad at me?"
                    "No, I was just scared something else had happened to you. I just want you to come home."
                    Andrew breathed a sigh of relief into the phone. "I'm so glad to hear that. I was worried ever since I left that you would never speak to me again. That was a wrong, stupid thing for me to do. I am sorry."
                    "At first, I wanted to never see you again, but I love you too much to do that. I couldn't do that to myself or to you. So, just come home...that's all I ask."
                    "I'll be home tomorrow. I'll be there waiting for you when you get home from work."
                    It was Evan's turn to breathe an audible sigh of relief into the phone. He couldn't suppress a huge grin and a giddy laugh; his love was coming home!
                    "Why didn't you call earlier?"
                    "I wanted to! Believe me, I wanted to call so badly it hurt, but I can't find either of our cell phones and we stopped at a half dozen places and nowhere has a pay phone anymore. Then nobody at the places we stopped would let us borrow their cell phones...so I really tried to call you all day, but I couldn't. So, we kept driving so we could get home as soon as possible."
                    "I'm just glad you are coming home and this whole fiasco is over."
                    "I know...we'll have a great story to tell when we're old."
                    "We've got a great story now! I just can't believe that this even happened. It seems so surreal that you were suspected of a kidnapping and that Agent Mortar even had me convinced you were guilty as sin. He even had me convinced that Engrid was in on it somehow. I thought you were the most heinous person in history because you kidnapped Amanda and coerced Engrid into participating against her will. I didn't think I'd ever trust anyone again if it turned out you were some sort of homicidal maniac."
                    "I wouldn't blame you...but that's not the case. I've never hurt anybody. I did coerce Engrid a bit though- she wanted to stay put and fight her fight right there, but I convinced her that the police would put us in prison for the rest of our lives if we didn't make a run for it."
                    "That was mean."
                    "At the time it was true. We would have landed in jail within five minutes of them finding Amanda, you know that. So, while it was a stupid thing to do, at the time it seemed the only option. Engrid understood and that's why she finally decided to go."
                    "I need to call Dora to let her know."
                    "Engrid's in the other room right now calling Dora to fill her in on our status."
                    "That's good."
                    "What made you think I did it?"
                    "They found her in your storage unit. Plus, you ran so far so fast. One minute you went for a walk, the next minute you were holed up in some motel in North Dakota."
                    "You wouldn't believe the lengths we went to to evade the police. I had to hide in an ice machine and Engrid had to hide in a toilet paper box. It was awful."
                    "It sounds like it!" Evan laughed, "You hid in an ice machine?"
                    "Yes, but only because you ratted us out."
                    "How did you know that?"
                    "I call you and five minutes later the police are charging up the stairs. It wasn't a huge leap."
                    "Sorry about that. Agent Mortar had me so convinced you were thoroughly evil. It seemed the right thing to do."
                    "I understand. I'm a little upset because of all the trouble it caused, but that's okay now, it all worked out okay."
                    Evan scowled a bit, "Caused you trouble? I was hounded tirelessly by the police and had your name and my conscience and convictions dragged through the mud. It was a horrid weekend of ups and downs and all sorts of mess."
                    "I'm sorry about that. I know I shouldn't have run away, but I panicked and so that's what I did."
                    "Well, as long as you get home safely."
                    "I'll have dinner on the table when you get home tomorrow."
                    "I look forward to it. It had better be good," he teased.
                    "It will be a gourmet extravaganza beyond compare."
                    "Good," Evan laughed, "So, Engrid's okay too?"
                    "She's elated to go home. She said that the toilet paper box wasn't very comfortable."
                    "I wouldn't think it would be."
                    "Besides, like I said, she didn't want to leave in the first place. This was all my fault."
                    "It's fine," Evan said, purposefully not denying Andrew's culpability.
                    "I'm tired, though, we've been driving since we were released from jail this morning."
                    "Okay, well I'll finish my dinner then I'm going to bed too. I can sleep better now knowing that you are on your way home. That bed has been so lonely."
                    They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. Evan was wrong, however, he did not sleep better that night because of all the excitement of the fact that Andrew would be home when he got back from work tomorrow afternoon. Evan tossed and turned all night long over this knowledge.
                    Dora was so relieved, she slept like a log. It was the first time in days she'd had a good, recuperative night's sleep.
                    Engrid and Andrew were back on the road shortly after 8 am the following morning and so happy to be back on the road home.
         
         
                    Cecilia packed up her granddaughter's things and prepared to go home. She asked the nurse again for Engrid and Andrew's telephone numbers. The nurse relented and gave them the numbers she was provided when they dropped Amanda off at the detoxification center.
                    Cecelia called, but did not leave a message when nobody answered. She hoped she would soon be able to express her gratitude personally. She was grateful that Engrid and Andrew had taken it upon themselves to find her granddaughter. She mentally kicked herself for not being more involved in Amanda's life up to this point. If she'd been, she reasoned, she could have prevented this whole thing.
                    Amanda was alive and bounding with energy. Cecilia just hoped and prayed that she would have the energy it would take to keep up with Amanda and keep her away from drugs again. Hopefully, being in Greenville and not Columbia would help because she wouldn't have the friends and contacts there that got her into narcotics in the first place.
                    Cecilia regretted not being there for her granddaughter and she was determined not to let that happen again. She'd had plenty of time to think about it since the nurse informed her that she would be taking care of Amanda. The option of turning her over to social services really wasn't an option Cecilia was willing to consider.
         
         
                    Engrid was never so excited as she was the moment the "Welcome to South Carolina" sign came into view. It was a portent that this whole painful mess was soon to be over. It meant that within a couple of hours, she would once again be in her home, safe and sound to live out her days in peace and harmony.
                    "Andrew...I was just thinking about it...what are you going to do about your job?"
                    "What do you mean?"
                    "You know what I mean...what if you get fired?"
                    "It's okay. I took a leave of absence."
                    "That's good."
                    "I was afraid that I might lose everything over this mess, I'm glad I didn't."
                    "That goes for you and me both! I've never been so happy to see my house in my lifetime."
                    "Mainly because you thought you might not see it again in your lifetime."
                    A little over an hour and a half later, Andrew and Engrid rolled back into Deerfield. He pulled the car to a stop in front of Engrid's house and hopped out to help her get her things out of the trunk.
                    "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?" Engrid asked.
                    "No, I intend to spend the whole evening with Evan."
                    "Sounds good...some other time then."
                    "Yes."
                    After getting her things in the house, Andrew went back to McWilliams & Jacobs Investments and begged to keep his job. Mr. McWilliams was incensed but Mr. Jacobs thought the whole scenario was funny, and plus Andrew had been a good employee and knew a ton about investments, so he was allowed to return to work first thing in the morning.
                    Once his employment future had been secured, he headed over to the grocery store. He had a nice dinner to prepare. He'd promised it, and it was his full intention to deliver on that promise.
                    He owed Evan a lot more than a little food, but it would have to do for the moment. He picked out a few things and went back home to get things ready. Evan would be home about 5:00 which was a bit early for eating, but it would have to do.
                    Andrew stood in his kitchen slicing up an onion. It felt incomparably wonderful to be back in his house. He'd been so excited to move in back in May. It was hard to believe that less than six months had passed since he arranged the furniture, shelved the books and the grandest move of them all, asked Evan to move in with him. That was the embarkation of the most fantastic adventure of his life.
                    He thought back over how much life had changed for so many in the past six months. There was Evan coming out to his mother and the subsequent drama. There was Grant's return and attempted murder and the subsequent drama. There was Andrew either accidentally or subconsciously intent on coming out to his coworkers and his relationship with Evan and the subsequent drama. Then, there were accusations of kidnapping, conspiracy and a manhunt across the North American continent and the subsequent drama. It wasn't until he pieced it all together that he realized just how dramatic his life had become in recent months. Who knew such high drama happened in such a sleepy little hamlet as Deerfield, South Carolina?
                    His reverie was interrupted by the sound of a car engine decelerating. He threw the carrots and onions into the stew pot and stirred. The bread was baking, and the succotash was finishing up on the back burner. He rushed into the dining room to finish laying out the dishes and setting the table.
                    He could feel the excitement mounting when he heard the distinct whirring of the Cherokee as it approached. Andrew looked out of the kitchen window and sure enough, that was Evan behind the wheel of that vehicle. The Cherokee pulled into its customary place and its occupant disembarked. Andrew could barely stand it. He was so excited it was painful to wait. He didn't realize Evan walked so slowly. He raced down the hall to the front door and snatched it open. Evan looked worried. He mounted the first step and for the first time since exiting his vehicle, he looked up. Andrew's face fell. Evan smiled. Andrew's face revived, and he felt alive again. There was energy in Evan's presence that lifted Andrew's spirits. It was an energy that was renewing and rejuvenating. Andrew felt that with his love at his side, there was no problem too big or too small to handle. Evan rushed up the stairs and embraced Andrew strongly. The feeling of each other's presence was exhilarating. Their lips pressed together in a long embrace.
                    Breaking their kiss, Evan stepped back, "Are you okay now?"
                    Andrew thought about it for a moment, "Yes. Now that you're here and you're not mad at me, I'm very okay."
                    "Good," Evan replied, and grabbed Andrew again and pulled him forward.
                    Andrew ushered Evan into the dining room and seated him at the nicely appointed table. The food was still steaming and looked delightful.
                    "I can't believe you did all this so fast. What time did you get back in town?"
                    "A couple of hours ago...it didn't take me long to get everything together. I hope it's good. It's the least I could possibly do after all I put you through this weekend."
                    Evan chuckled, "I won't deny that!"
                    Andrew sat down next to him at the large dining room table.
                    "I'm glad you came back, I really missed you. There was a brief time I hated you, but I feel guilty about that now."
                    "You had every right to hate me. I wouldn't blame you if you still do. After all, whether I'm guilty of kidnapping or not, I still ran out on you and that was a stupid, idiotic thing to do."
                    "I won't argue with that either."
                    Evan didn't say anything else for a few moments as he dished up his plate. He started eating. An awkward silence descended on the dining room.
                    "You are mad at me, aren't you?"
                    Evan thought for a moment, "A little bit, yeah."
                    "I understand. I'll sleep in the guest room tonight if you want me to."
                    "No, no...I'm not that angry. It's just that..."
                    "That...what?" Andrew prodded. He wanted to get to the bottom of this and get it over with as soon as possible.
                    "This has just been such a roller coaster for me this weekend. I was worried that you had gotten into trouble, and then I thought you actually did those awful things and then when you ran off like that I just knew you were guilty. Then that started to prey on my mind- how could I get mixed up with such people? First rapist Derek, then homicidal Grant, then kidnapper you...it began to make me wonder why I attract such awful people. Then to find out that you aren't really guilty and just panicked and fled. Now you're back and you've done this for me...I don't know what to think anymore. What if you are some conman and I'm just falling for the whole charade all over again. How stupid would I feel to find out that you'd tricked me again? What if I end up in prison because of my association with you? I just don't know what to think anymore, Andrew. I love you to pieces but I don't know if I can trust you."
                    Andrew didn't say anything for a few minutes. He just sat thinking, processing all that Evan had laid out for him.
                    "I don't know what to say," Andrew began, "I...I really wish I hadn't run away. If I would've just stayed put, none of this would have happened. I might have spent a night or two in jail, but I would have been released. It was wrong of me to leave.
                    "But you didn't know that at the time. You made the best decision you could with what you knew at the time. It was the wrong decision, but you made it and stuck with it."
                    "I'm innocent of the kidnapping, Evan. I had nothing to do with that, you have to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt that girl. Engrid and I just went searching for her because it seemed the right thing to do. You and your mom were with us the first night; you know what our motivations were when we were looking for Amanda."
                    "I know. I guess I'm just overreacting. I know you didn't have anything to do with it."
                    "I'm glad you feel that way."
                    Evan still didn't say much for a few minutes. While he understood the rationale, Andrew was disappointed this wasn't the enormously happy reunion he'd pictured in his mind as he was driving home from North Dakota. Andrew had built it up in his mind that it would be this joyous, raucous reunion and he was disappointed and annoyed that it wasn't all forgive and forget. He realized that he'd misjudged what had been going on back in Deerfield in his absence.
                    He didn't really and truly understand until hearing Evan's words that things had not been in suspended animation while he was away. Even while he was fleeing for his life, things continued in Deerfield. Things were said, opinions were held, and interactions took place of which he was unaware. All he'd known up until that point was his own assumptions and perceptions of things. It was slowly dawning on him just how much he'd hurt Evan by leaving.
                    "I didn't realize all those things had happened while I was gone."
                    "I know you don't."
                    "Can you forgive me?"
                    Evan thought about it for a moment, "Yes...it just might take me a few days. I was so convinced that you were guilty, it might take me a while to get that out of my head."
                    "I understand. Do you want me to stay somewhere else tonight?"
                    "No...why do you seem so determined to leave again?" Evan snapped.
                    "I...I...I'm not going to leave."
                    "Good, we have a lot to talk about."
                    "Yes, we do."
                    The boys finished their meal in an unexpected, awkward silence. Evan's excitement over Andrew's return was tempered by the nagging suspicions that plagued his mind over Andrew's guilt or innocence.
                    After dinner, Andrew excused himself and went upstairs. Evan remained in the kitchen, having volunteered to clean up from dinner. Evan missed the way things once were. He felt the same about Andrew as before, his love for him had not declined. It was just the nagging suspicion that there was more to the story than Andrew was telling.
                    After cleaning up the dishes and wiping down the table, Evan went upstairs to check on his love. Andrew was asleep on the bed. He'd had an even more dramatic weekend than Evan. In the last couple of days, he'd driven to North Dakota and back while evading capture by a multistate manhunt.
                    Evan sat in a chair in the corner and watched Andrew's peaceful slumber. His emotions came back to haunt him in that dimly lit bedroom. His love for Andrew was overwhelming. Andrew was so sweet and loving and kind. Evan couldn't fathom why he'd been so cold at dinner or why he ever believed at all that Andrew could commit the crimes of which he was accused.
                    He sat in that chair for quite a while watching Andrew sleep.
         
         
                    Engrid was in her own living room napping on her sofa, the TV remote control resting on her stomach. She'd intended to go to bed, but she'd dozed off right where she lay. She was startled awake by the doorbell. Who could it be at this hour?
                    Engrid, nerves still raw from the events of the previous 72 hours, lay perfectly still, hoping that it was her sleep deprived imagination. The doorbell rang again. The police were more adamant and would be banging on the door and shouting that it was the police. So, it must not be them. She crawled off the couch and stood up. She shuffled over to the window and saw that it was Evan, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets with the evening chill.
                    She pulled the door open, "Evan...what's going on? What's the matter?"
                    "What binds two people together?"
                    "What?" She rubbed her sleepy eyes.
                    "What is it that binds two people together? What makes one person have such a deep and strong attachment to another person that it feels like if that person left, the world would end and you would die instantly?"
                    Engrid looked confused and exhausted, but let him in anyway, "Come in, Evan...it's getting cold outside. She ushered him into the kitchen and got him a glass of milk. "What are you talking about?"
                    "I'm talking about me and Andrew, Engrid. I love him so much that my whole body ached when he left. I finally know what that vow means in the marriage ceremony...the part about 'forsaking all others.' I know what that feeling is now. I've always wondered what conceivable emotion would make someone give up everything for one person. Now I know."
                    "Well, good for you. Why are you here?"
                    "I needed to talk to someone. Andrew's asleep- I didn't want to wake him."
                    "I was sleeping too."
                    "Your light was on. I figured you were awake. I didn't mean to wake you."
                    "It's okay...so, you love Andrew. That's good. I'm glad you finally found someone who makes you happy."
                    "Not just happy, Engrid. Andrew makes me feel alive. I was the walking dead the whole time he was gone. Then when he came back, I was so...I don't even know how to describe it. I was sad but excited, happy but ticked off...it was a terrible feeling. I want Andrew...he's all I've ever wanted. I couldn't or wouldn't put words to it before, but it's true. When I thought he was guilty, you have no idea how I felt. I felt like my insides had been ripped out and stomped on. It was the worst feeling I've ever experienced. Then when he came back, I wasn't sure if he was guilty or not...all I know is that I don't care if he is or isn't. That bothers me a little that I love him no matter what he's done."
                    Engrid was finally waking up a little bit, "What bothers you?"
                    "That I don't care if he's guilty or not."
                    "Okay...I don't understand."
                    "I love him no matter what, Engrid."
                    "And this is a problem because..."
                    "It should matter. But I can't help how I feel about him."
                    "I know you can't."
                    "You do?"
                    "Well, sort of...I guess. I don't really know what it's like to love someone of your own gender, but I suppose that it probably feels a lot like what I feel about my late husband. George was a wonderful man, but I think that if he'd committed some terrible crime, I would still have feelings for him. I probably wouldn't associate with him anymore, but that wouldn't change how I felt about him."
                    "You wouldn't hate him?"
                    "I don't know. I might."
                    "I wanted to hate Andrew when I thought he was guilty because he'd lied to me and deceived me. But yet I couldn't help it...I love the guy."
                    "From what I can tell, you didn't realize how much you loved him until he left."
                    "Yes...that's it! You don't realize how much someone means to you until they're gone."
                    "I would agree with that. So, you didn't realize you loved Andrew until then?"
                    "I thought I did, but not really. I know we haven't known each other that long, but he's my world. I can't imagine a life without him in it. I don't want to imagine that. I want him to be with me always and forever."
                    "I always hoped you'd find this in your life. Andrew isn't quite who I had imagined you falling in love with, but then that's okay. It's your heart not mine. It's like my great-aunt Mable used to say, 'You can't tell your heart who to love.'"
                    "Did she say that about George?"
                    "No, George was a dreamboat. She said that about a cousin of mine who ran off with some roughneck guy. But it was more of a general saying of hers in situations like this."
                    "Andrew's a dreamboat." Evan's eyes sparkled.
                    "To you...yes he is. You see Andrew through the eyes of your heart not through the eyes of the world. That makes a difference."
                    "What do you mean?"
                    "I mean when you look at Andrew, you see something that is hidden from the rest of us. When you look at him, you see love; you see hope; you see devotion. When the rest of the world looks at him, they see just an ordinary person. To you, he is extraordinary. The world may never understand what the two of you have because it's something they cannot experience. Does that make sense? It's late, so I'm not sure I'm making any sense at all."
                    "Yeah...it does. So, I hope when Andrew looks at me, he sees the same thing."
                    "Ideally, yes. When you find someone like that, you've found your soul mate," she rubbed the edge of her ceramic milk mug thoughtfully.
                    "My soul mate?" Evan sat back, astonished at the words.
                    "I suppose so, yes. If you feel this way about Andrew after all he's put you through, it's the only explanation I can come up with."
                    "Do you think what he and I have is special?"
                    Engrid thought about it for a moment, "Yes. What you have is very special. Most people go through life and never find what you two seem to have. When the world looks at you, the world might see something terrible. The world might see something evil, but I sometimes wonder if that isn't jealousy. The world is jealous because it wishes it has what you two have and so, it's determined to destroy it. If you were a man and woman, perhaps the world might be more forgiving and see what you two have as an ideal to be striven for, but since you're gay, it sees the same thing and labels it 'evil.'"
                    "I'm glad you don't." Evan said.
                    Engrid continued, "I just realized that there is more to the world than I'll ever know. It's hard to think of someone like you as evil. It's easier to hate an idea or a concept or even a piece of propaganda, but it's different when the 'evil out there' has a name, a face, and a personality that is so contrary to what is claimed. There are some aspects of love I'm not privy to. I'd rather live in a world with you in it than in a world without you. I don't know if that's an acceptable answer or not, but it is what it is."
                    "It is. But why would God give me something so special and so rare and yet set up the rules against it? What I have is wonderful and I can't imagine life without it, but the world is set up to tell me it's wrong and evil and I shouldn't be this way."
                    "All I know is that Andrew is a gift. Maybe to teach you how cold and cruel the world can be so that you know and experience love and recognize it for what it is."
                    "Andrew is a gift, isn't he?" Evan said, astonished at what he was hearing.
                    "Yes. Plus, you have a beautiful home, a fun career, a loving mother and a crotchety old woman who thinks you hung the moon. You have it pretty good, Evan."
                    "I know I do." Evan said, then after a moment's thought, "You think I hung the moon?"
                    "Don't let it go to your head," Engrid smirked, "But I do think very highly of you."
                    "You're right, though, I do have it pretty good."
                    "Yes, you do. Now your soulmate is home alone...don't let him get away."
                    Evan stood up, "I won't. He got away once, and it won't happen again."
                    "Okay. I'm going to sleep. Whatever else you want to talk about can wait until morning."
                    Evan let himself out and walked home. He went upstairs. Andrew stirred at the sound of the bedroom door opening. He rolled over and saw Evan's shadowy form standing over him.
                    "What's the matter? What's going on?" Andrew asked, sitting up, instantly alert.
                    "Nothing's wrong, sweetie. Everything is just fine," Evan stroked Andrew's hair.
                    "So, you're not upset with me anymore?"
                    "No. I talked to Engrid about it and she's set me straight."
                    "Good for her...although not too 'straight' I hope." Andrew smiled.
                    "Not at all...she got me to see what a wonderful gift we are to each other."
                    "Good," Andrew yawned and stretched.
                    Evan slid in next to Andrew and the two slept peacefully through the night.
                    In the days that followed, Andrew tried to return to some sort of normal routine. He gladly sat down at his boring desk and watched the looks of his officemates. Betty and the others eyed him.
                    They knew he was innocent. Little old Andrew couldn't hurt a fly, but there was still that shadow of a doubt. There was still that nagging little suspicion in the backs of their minds. The small-town gossip had made its rounds and was doing its damage. Whether or not Andrew was in fact guilty was beside the point. The court of public opinion had ruled against him.
                    "Good morning," he greeted them despite the stony silence. He'd made a run for it...that coupled with the fact that the missing girl was found in his self-storage unit sealed his fate. His reputation in this tiny southern hamlet was sullied forevermore.
                    "Good morning," Betty and Darcy mumbled their replies.
                    After a few minutes, Darcy moseyed over to his desk. She sat in the customer chair and looked at him over her black plastic wire-framed glasses.
                    "So?" she inquired.
                    "So what?" he asked.
                    "So, what's the deal with you high tailing it to North Dakota?"
                    "There's really nothing to it. I didn't do anything wrong, but the evidence was piling up against me. So, I panicked and fled. I'm not proud of it, but that's what happened."
                    "Then how did that girl wind up in your storage unit?"
                    "I really don't know. Truthfully, I don't care and I'd rather just drop the whole thing."
                    "Fine with me...so you're seriously innocent?" she cocked her head to one side, eyeing him with a mixture of pity and mirth.
                    "Yes."
                    "Good." She patted the legs of her dress slacks and went back to her own workstation.
                    "Oh, one last thing, I don't mean to be nosy but..."
                    "Go ahead..."
                    "How'd Evan take it?"
                    "Like a champ."
                    "Good for him...I'm glad he didn't go too soft." She smirked as she opened her web browser to a financial website to pretend to work.
                    "Darcy, can I ask you a question?"
                    She nodded her consent, "Of course."
                    "Do people around here really think I would do something like that?"
                    Her pause told him everything he needed to know.
                    "What did I do that made people think that I would hurt someone like that?"
                    "I don't know. I don't know if it was something you did or said."
                    "Then what was it? It seemed like everything was going so well for me here and then all this. Now there's a cloud of suspicion everywhere I go. It's weird. It's like everyone went from thinking highly of me to whispers and insinuation. I don't know why people didn't defend me and immediately assumed I was guilty."
                    "People do that," Darcy shrugged.
                    "What happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'?"
                    "It's dead," Mr. Jacobs announced from his office door, "That concept died a long time ago. Now, if you're accused, you're guilty until proven innocent."
                    "How can I prove my innocence?"
                    "You can't," he replied, "It's up to us to trust you. You have to find out who did. The only way to prove you didn't do it is to prove that someone else did. Until the kidnapper is caught, you will be guilty as sin in the minds of this town."
                    The look of dreaded realization dawned on Andrew's face.
                    "What's with that look?"
                    "I was hoping to just put this all behind me and let the cops figure it out."
                    "You could do that..." Betty said, baiting him.
                    "Or what? I don't have access to the forensics or anything. Whenever I meddle in the case, it looks like it all blows up in my face and it ends up looking like I'm guilty and trying to hide something."
                    Andrew thought about it. "I don't know what to do. If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears." His officemates just looked at each other and shrugged. This wasn't some crime novel or TV drama. This was real life.
         
         
                    After work, Andrew drove straight to Engrid's house. She was sitting on her swing watching. It was as if she expected him to stop by.
                    "Engrid, we need to find whoever did this."
                    "I know. I've been thinking about how to go about it."
                    "You mean scheming..."
                    She waved her hand in the air, "Tomato/To-mah-to."
                    "So, what did you come up with?"
                    "I have a nagging suspicion I know who's behind this. What I can't figure out is how he knew which locker yours was."
                    "Who?"
                    "Well, Amanda left the rehab center shortly after the paramedics took her there after you rescued her from the river. By that time, her grandmother was at home and had no idea any of this was going on. Her father was in jail, so we can safely rule them out. It wasn't me or you, neither Evan nor Myrtle had the slightest bit of motive."
                    "Okay...so who's left?"
                    "Well presumably when she left the rehab center, she returned to a life on the streets. The only thing we know about her life on the streets was that she was on drugs. I found out, from asking around, that her dealer often hung out in that park. He was the creepy guy we encountered."
                    "Why though? What was his motive?"
                    "I'm not sure, maybe revenge."
                    "Against me?"
                    "I assume so. I don't know what his beef with us is, other than we were costing him a customer."
                    "It's thin."
                    "That's all we've got. But how on God's green earth can we prove it? Besides, how would he know about the storage unit?"
                    "Go to the police. They've probably already thought of it, but you should explain your theory anyway."
                    "What would that accomplish?"
                    "It's elementary, my dear Engrid," his eyes twinkled.
                    "Oh, it is, is it? Then by all means pray explain, Mr. Holmes."
                    "Amanda gave a description of the kidnapper. It wasn't one of us, but maybe it was him. If she could give a positive ID, the case would be over. Simple."
                    "That's brilliant!" she exclaimed, eyes wide in wonder at the simplicity that had been staring them in the face all along.
                    "That way this will all be over, and people would quit looking at me like I was some sort of pedophile." Andrew groused.
                    "I'm going to call Agent Senson right now," she picked up her portable phone off the floor of her front porch. She dialed the handset and held it up to her ear. She filled in Agent Senson on Andrew's latest breakthrough. After exchanging a few closing pleasantries, she concluded the phone call.
                             "So, he's going to follow-up on it?"
                             "Right away...he was excited about it too."
                             Engrid and Andrew leaned back and slowly rocked back and forth in the languid autumnal evening. Their names would soon be cleared, the real perpetrator would be behind bars and this whole mess would be permanently behind them. Andrew allowed a brief smile of self-satisfaction to creep across his face.
                    "What are you smiling at?" Engrid inquired.
                    "I'm just glad we might have finally gotten this disastrous affair behind us."
                    "It's not behind us yet...they have to catch him. We don't have a name or address. All we have is a very vague description and a general location where he might be."
                    "I'm sure it will be over soon."
                    "But if the police go snooping around there, they won't find him." Engrid stated matter-of-factly. She snatched her portable phone handset back up off the porch floor. She pounded in some numbers and held it up to her ear.
                    "Agent Senson, this is Engrid Matthews again."
                    "Yes Engrid?"
                    "I've encountered a problem. If the police go looking for this guy, he's not going to make himself known. We don't have a name or anything. Okay...okay..."
                    She listened for a few moments before speaking again, "I propose that Andrew and I go undercover. With police supervision this time of course. If he did frame us, he might intercept us to gloat a bit. If the police are watching, you can pick him up on something random and bring him in then have Amanda ID him. I know it could be dangerous, but we've been to this park before. I know it's a long shot but it's our best chance to catch this guy. I understand. I'm sure your people are great at catching perpetrators, but you don't know who you're looking for. A tall, pale, Caucasian male in dark clothes is not that detailed of a description. I would love it if either Andrew or I were wired. But the police would need to be quite a long way off and truly part of the landscape. If this guy suspects anything at all, it won't work, and Andrew and I could be in serious trouble. We would intercept the guy and then you would be able to tell from the conversation that we were speaking to him and then you could swoop in and grab him. I know it sounds simplistic. Are you familiar with Ockham's Razor? This is the simplest answer. Agent Senson, with all due respect, I think this is our best shot. He knows us...what disturbs me is that he knows who we are. After all, he knew which storage unit Andrew's was. Andrew," she turned to him, "Did you go to your self-storage unit between the time we encountered the man in the park and the time Amanda was discovered?"
                    Andrew thought about it for a moment. "Actually, I did. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier. I did go there the next day."
                    "Sunday?"
                    "Yeah, we went before church. I don't know why we picked that of all days, but Evan and I went out there that morning before church. We got some books and such to flesh out the shelves in the living room."
                    "Did you see anyone or anything out of the ordinary that day?"
                    Andrew thought long and hard. "Yes. There was a car following me. It was the ugliest car I'd ever seen. It was this nasty green color. I think it was an old Cadillac, maybe an Oldsmobile maybe from the 1970s.
                    Engrid sat quietly sucking her teeth. The wheels of her mind spun in circles.
                    "He must have followed you. This was premeditated. I still can't imagine why."
                    "Mrs. Matthews?" She heard Agent Senson calling her name through the phone receiver.
                    "Yes?" she held it back up to her ear, "Did you hear what Andrew just said?"
                    "Yes, I did. When did you want to do this?"
                    "Well," she looked at her watch, "It's 5:45 now so would 6-7 hours be enough time for you to get the men and equipment we'll need?"
                    "Yes. I should be able to get everything approved by then. I'll have to discuss it with Agent Mortar first since he's the lead investigator."
                    "Ugh," Engrid sighed into the phone, "I really don't like that man."
                    "I know you don't, Mrs. Matthews, but he's in charge. I think your plan just might work; but if he doesn't sign off on it, it will never happen."
                    "Okay then, do what you must. Call me back as soon as you get the go-ahead."
                    She pressed the off button once again ending her conversation with the SLED agent.
                    "Do you think Mortar will go for it?"
                    "I don't know," Engrid sat back, pushing back the porch swing with her feet and letting it glide forward. "Agent Senson is a bright man and I think he could crack the case if that idiotic blowhard Mortar would stay out of his way."
                    "I guess there's no love lost between the two of you."
                    "Not the least. That man suspected us from day one for some reason and he tried his hardest to put two innocent people in prison for the rest of their lives. I've heard that it's better for an innocent man to go to jail than for a guilty man to go free. But I'm telling you here and now, that's a bunch of hogwash if you're the innocent man rotting in a jail cell."
                    "Or hiding in a toilet paper box."
                    "Yes...or hiding in a toilet paper box. Or an ice machine for that matter."
                    "If Mortar says no, then what do we do?"
                    "I wonder if it would be illegal for us to find him in the park and call the police. We could say that he tried to attack us or something. Once he's already apprehended, Mortar might be willing to throw us a bone and have Amanda see him to make a positive ID. That's an even longer shot. Let's just hope and pray Mortar says yes."
                    "I think that's illegal."
                    "Why?"
                    "You can't just make up charges against someone. I don't know the legalese for it, but it can't be right. But, if he is the type of person who sells drugs to teenagers, he might be dumb enough to have them on his person. We could call the police with an anonymous tip that someone is selling drugs in the park and have them come by and arrest him for possession of an illegal substance."
                    "Now that's good thinking, Andrew. Okay, so even if Mortar craps out on us, we just might be able to catch this good-for-nothing scumbag ourselves."
                    Engrid kept pushing the swing back and forth lazily for a few minutes as the darkness of the evening set in. She glanced over at an approaching car.
                    "Scumbag?" Andrew asked.
                    "I sometimes get carried away."
                    "Ah."
                    The Cherokee decelerated and stopped. Evan hopped out and went inside.
                    "Your honey is home, Mr. Garrison. I think you should go greet him."
                    "You know what, Mrs. Matthews? Think I just might do that." Andrew stood up and stretched his arms out over his head and then behind his back. He walked down the steps and headed home leaving Engrid alone on her front porch swing. She picked up her portable phone and went back inside to prepare her own evening meal. As she was making a grilled cheese sandwich in an old cast iron skillet, the portable phone, which was now on the counter, rang.
                    "Hello. Yes, Agent Senson, I take it Mortar agreed to our plan? Yes. Oh good, I'm glad he was desperate for a lead. A desperate person is easily manipulated. So, what's the plan? Okay. I'll fill Andrew in on the details."
                    She turned off the phone, turned off the burner, and sat her sandwich on a plate. She grabbed her jacket off the coat rack by the door and scurried over to the neighboring house.
                   Once on the porch, she rang the doorbell. Evan answered, "Hi Engrid, what's going on?"
                    "Is Andrew home? I need to talk to him right now."
                    Evan furrowed his brow in mock annoyance, "And a fine how'd'ya'do to you too."
                    "Sorry, this isn't a social call, it's an emergency."
                    "Oh, what's the matter?" Evan looked concerned.
                    "Did Andrew fill you in on our discussion just before you got home?"
                    "No, he went upstairs and soon as he got home. I've been cooking supper ever since."
                    "Oh, I was hoping he'd told you."
                    "Sadly, I feel Andrew keeps more and more from me every day." Evan replied.
                    "He shouldn't. You're a very trustworthy man, Evan. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives."
                    "Thank you for the compliment. If you'd care to indulge me with the details of your visit, I'll treat you to supper at our house."
                    "I've come to realize something very important about the case."
                    Engrid filled Evan in on the details of her plan to exonerate herself and Andrew by catching the perpetrator in the park where this whole saga began. She could tell by the deepening redness washing across Evan's face, his answer was not going to be in the affirmative.
                    "Absolutely not!" Evan burst, crossing his arms, "This is ridiculous!"
                    "What's ridiculous?" Andrew asked, striding through the kitchen doorway. He'd come down the stairs after hearing Engrid's voice.
                    "It's the only way we can clear our names," Engrid replied, keeping her composure.
                             "Uh-oh," Andrew said, realizing the topic.
                    "Let the police handle it. Every time you two try to solve it, you only make it worse." Evan said.
                    "So far, that's been true," Engrid admitted, "but if the police go in there guns blazing, they'll never catch him. Evan, I promise this is the best way."
                    "Can you promise you won't get killed?"
                    "I'm not going to get killed and neither is Andrew. We will have police protection and they will be listening the whole time. This couldn't be safer."
                    Evan sat on the sofa scowling at them both, "I still want to go on record as being against this whole operation."
                    "The record shall so reflect," Engrid replied.
                    "So, what are you going to do with him when you catch him?"
          "What do you mean? The police swoop in and nab him."
"Do you really expect it to go that smoothly?"
                    "I'm sure there might be a few hiccups, but that's basically how it will go." Engrid explained.
                    "One of the hiccups wouldn't include you taking a bullet to your brain, would it?" Evan said.
                    "No, as a matter of fact, it would not." Engrid replied.
                    "Andrew, are you on board with this?" Evan said, turning to him.
                    Andrew gulped and looked into Evan's eyes. He was going to tell the truth this time. He couldn't bear to see that look of betrayal in Evan's eyes ever again. Regardless of the outcome, he was not going to get caught in another lie.
                    "I don't want to do it, but we have no other choice. We are the best chance the police have to catch the real kidnapper. Until he is caught, prosecuted and incarcerated, Engrid and I will always have an air of suspicion hanging over our heads. I don't want to go through life with that cloud just over my head. I hope you can understand. Please don't be mad at us."
                    "I'm not mad at you; I'm worried about you and scared for you. I don't know what I'd do if either of you got killed over this mess."
                    "Evan, I'm telling you that you don't have to worry about anything. I know what I'm doing. I promise."
                    "How on earth can you possibly know what you are doing?" Evan's ire was raised, "Are you a cop? Are you a criminal? Are you some sort of government agent? No! You are a financial advisor. You can navigate the world of international banking, but you don't know jack about bringing down a dangerous criminal who's probably armed and probably already done time in prison. I'm telling you this is a disaster in the making."
                    "It is not," Andrew retorted.
                    "You should tell him," Engrid said.
                    Evan shot Andrew a stern look, "Tell me what? What aren't you telling me that Engrid knows about you?"
                    "He likes Hello Kitty." Engrid replied with a slight smirk, "We learned a lot about each other on that fateful road trip."
                    Evan didn't look amused, "What's going on you two?"
                    Andrew looked at the floor, "When I was in college and for a few years afterwards, I helped Uncle Ray's former commander. He's a United States General and he asked me to do some basic assignments."
                    "I know that," Evan snapped.
                             "How could you possibly know that?"
                             "I learned a thing or two about you during the investigation. Richard told me. He ran a background check and found out."
                             "Richard?"
                             "Um, Agent Senson," Evan corrected himself.
                             "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
                    "I am too but in the process, I learned a thing or two about fending for myself against some pretty nasty people in some pretty nasty predicaments."
                    "Are there people looking for you?"
                    "No, I was just a messenger boy. I was just a face in a sea of faces. I had a different identity every time I traveled with the agency. Trust me; I'm not important enough for them to spend time and money tracking me down."
                    "Are you sure?"
                    "Yes. I'm certain that there are no foreign terrorists out looking to kill me. They wouldn't even know who I was if they cared to try to find out. You are perfectly safe with me."
                    "Okay."
                    "You aren't mad?"
                    "No. After the stunts you've pulled the past 96 hours, this seems rather minor."
                    "That's a relief."
                    "When was your last assignment?"
                    "Two weeks before I moved to Deerfield."
                    "Where did you go?"
                    "Venezuela. I can't tell you any more than that."
                    "Okay. Did you have a security clearance?"
                    "I can't say."
                    "You aren't going to take anymore assignments?"
                    "No. I spoke with the general and asked for no more assignments."
                    "And he agreed?"
                    "Yes. I was an 'ad hoc agent' and part of the agreement was that I could stop whenever I wanted to and I could decline any assignments I chose to decline."
                    "Why did you stop?"
                    "I wanted a stable life. I couldn't have a stable life if every Friday afternoon I had to drive to the airport, fly across the world and then be back in time to resume my normal life the next Monday morning. When I was in school, my schedule was a little more flexible and I had fewer people to be accountable for my whereabouts."
                    "That makes sense. Why didn't you tell me?"
                    "I wasn't supposed to tell anybody. Engrid found out because of the natural progression of things. I couldn't do some of the things I needed to do without answering her questions. So, my best option was to confess and gain her confidence."
                    Evan sat quietly for a few moments. He knew that he couldn't stop Andrew and Engrid from going ahead with their plan. For his wiriness and seeming banality, Andrew Garrison hid some pretty astonishing secrets. Evan was slightly titillated that Andrew was a real-life international man of mystery. Evan was turned on picturing Andrew as some secret agent 007 sneaking around the planet for the good of America. Evan decided that he would reward Andrew handsomely when they were alone together again.
                    He finally replied, "I guess you do know what you're doing after all. Then, I guess I'll have to agree for you to go ahead and clear your names. After all, it's the only honorable thing for me to do."
                    "I'm glad you understand," Andrew said.
         
         
          Chapter 31
                    Andrew drove the black Pathfinder along the streets of Columbia searching for the park. The sun was setting as the October evening settled around them. They were driving through a nice business part of town. The park down along the river abutted some of the downtown high rises and office complexes. Andrew wondered how many of the powerful, well-dressed men and women who went hither and thither from those corporate buildings from 9-5 on weekdays had any inkling of the things that went on at night.
                    Once the jet set people departed, scurrying back to their comfortable 5-bedroom mini-mansions in the suburbs, another side of the human story came to life. People who were all but invisible during daylight hours came out. There were homeless men and women gathered around burning trash barrels guarding themselves against the cold. There were people taking part of the drug culture- huffing and puffing on glass pipes.
                    There were all kinds of dark practices taking place under the cover of leafy trees. Scenes unimaginable to the office folk played out in the grassy knoll just outside their climate-controlled havens.
                    Andrew guided the vehicle along, as Engrid tried to read the street signs in the rapidly fading vestiges of daylight.
                    "I think we're near it," she announced as they approached an intersection, "Turn left, I think it's right down here somewhere."
                    Andrew obeyed her command. The large SUV made its way down the incline towards the river. Andrew pulled to a stop along the street opposite the park.
                    "Let me do the talking." Andrew said.
                    "Why?"
                    "You scared him off last time."
                    "Yes, I did. I guess this time our objective is to ferret out this angel of darkness."
                    "Yes. We are going to ferret him out so that the police can do their thing."
                    "Can you hear me?" she asked softly. The ear bud shoved deep into her canal crackled the response in her ear and in Andrew's, "Loud and clear. You are ready to go."
                    "I guess this is it," she stated.
                    "It is," the reply crackled.
                    Andrew stepped out of the vehicle and walked ahead of Engrid towards the park. Andrew headed into the trees as Engrid stayed near the sidewalk overlooking the towering office buildings. She paced slowly back and forth along the sidewalk, willing herself to go deeper. Andrew had gone right in to look for the man. The old saying, "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread," came to her mind.
                    Andrew was wafting among the trees, making sure he didn't wander into too dark or inescapable of a recess. He wanted to make sure that he could see the guy coming. There were to be no surprises on this trip. Full darkness had settled in, but the moon was full and all the streetlamps were in working order.
                    "Do you see anything?" Agent Senson asked from the unmarked, unassuming control van parked a few blocks away.
                    "No," they both whispered their responses.
                    "Engrid, where are you?" Andrew whispered.
                    "I'm keeping an eye out from the road. Hopefully I can see him before he goes into the park. That way I can give you a heads up when he's on his way."
                    "Okay."
                    Andrew slipped behind a large oak tree and peered around its massive trunk. He kept his body pressed flat against the rough bark. He strained his eyes to see out into the deepening darkness as the trees thickened as they got closer before breaking near the riverfront.
                    He was too far away to hear the gurgling of the river water, but he could hear the faint voices of the homeless people that gathered along the bank of the river. His nerves were on high alert. He strained to see if he could still catch sight of Engrid at the top of the hill along the street. He could see nothing. A cloud passed over the moon removing what light there had been. He was out of reach of the glowing streetlamps.
                    Behind him, a shadow emerged. Andrew glanced around and sensed a presence behind him. He turned to look. The shadows themselves seemed to be moving. He was sure it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. The chill sent a shiver up his spine. The tiny hairs on his neck stood up. He took a step back. Were the shadows really moving? He couldn't tell.
                    Engrid could hear Andrew's labored breathing through her ear bud. His breathing was speeding up. It made sense; he was probably scared half to death down there. She stepped on the grass at the edge of the park, daring herself to go in. Something was wrong and she might need to intervene. She took another step closer.
         
         
                    Andrew took another step back. The shadows were moving. He was sure of it. It must be just a trick of the moonlit shadows. He turned around and there his target was. His dark clothes and pale, drawn face were unmistakable. Andrew gasped.
                    "Hello Andrew. I was expecting you."
                    Andrew stood stone still debating whether to run, stay, scream, cry, or die.
                    "Now, don't be rude," he said, a smile creeping across his face revealing perfect teeth.
                    "Who are you?" Andrew hissed, "How do you know me?"
                    "I did my homework."
                    "Then it was you! It was you who kidnapped that girl."
                    "You already knew that. Why else would you be here?"
                    "Who are you?"
                    "Why should I tell you anything? Do you really believe that I don't know you are wearing a wire? Where are the police, I wonder? Perhaps they are hiding in a tree...or in a shrubbery...or perhaps, just perhaps they are waiting in that innocuous white van about three blocks away."
                    Andrew's surprised expression confirmed the man's suspicions.
                    "And, of course, what about that charming old woman who has stolen your platonic affections? Perhaps she's waiting at the top of the hill...waiting for some signal from you...or perhaps she's prepared to hear your death screams. She's waiting to hear the sound of life being choked from you."
                    "You are insane," Andrew said, taking a large step back just in case.
                    "By some definitions, I suppose so."
                    "No, I think you're pretty much nuts." Andrew's eyes narrowed.
                    The man took a small, almost imperceptible step towards Andrew. He made and maintained eye contact with his victim.
                    "If you won't tell me who you are, at least tell me why you picked me? What did I do to deserve what happened?"
                    "You are a pest. I don't have an exterminator, so I have to do my own dirty work." He replied casually.
                    "She came to me to buy more drugs. I kidnapped her, put her in your self-storage unit and then phoned in an anonymous tip. I didn't want to kill you. I figured prison for kidnapping was close enough. I'm not, by nature, a violent man."
                    "You can come in now," Andrew spoke aloud.
                    "What?" Agent Senson asked.
                    "Get your asses down here NOW!" Andrew yelled into his ear piece, "He knows you're there."
                    The stranger turned and dashed off into the undergrowth.
                    "You're not going anywhere!" Andrew lunged after him. The man sped up and Andrew kept pace. They flew through the trees along the length of the park. Andrew wasn't sure what the man would do. He was dangerous and he was trapped. He was pinned between the river and the street. Further they ran.
                    The man stopped, pulled a pistol out of his coat and fired at Andrew. The bullet ricocheted off a tree and tore through the leaves of an azalea bush. Andrew dove behind a tree. Unbeknownst to anyone but himself, Andrew had a small pistol of his own strapped to his leg. He pulled it from its holster and returned fire.
                    "Engrid, stay away, he's got a gun." Andrew said.
                    "Okay." Engrid watched as the police van screeched to a stop in front of her. There were shots fired, Engrid hadn't the slightest intention of going into the forest. She went behind the van and looked around. She nearly got mowed down by agents pouring out of the van. She looked around and saw Andrew's Pathfinder parked further up the street where they had left it earlier. She hurried in that direction and pulled on the door handle. Naturally, it was locked, so she got on the other side, putting the Pathfinder between her and the gunfire.
                    "Andrew, where are you?" Engrid asked into her ear piece.
                    "I don't know exactly," he gasped into the mic as he was running, "We're still in the park."
                    "We heard gunshots, is it a pistol?"
                    "Yes, he's armed and so am I." Andrew replied.
                    "You have a gun?"
                    "Yes."
                    Another volley of gunfire pierced the darkness and foliage. Andrew leaned around the tree behind which he'd sought refuge and returned fire. He heard a yelp. The man grabbed his arm and turned to run away. Andrew gave chase. The winged assailant kept going. He tripped over a tree root and fell to the ground. His gun slid through the grass. Andrew leapt on him with full fury and pinned him to the ground.
                    The man was stronger than Andrew anticipated. He simply stood up with Andrew clinging to his back. Andrew withdrew a small knife some somewhere within his frock and held it to the man's throat. The man paused. He jutted his elbow back and caught Andrew just below the rib cage. Andrew coughed and fell from the man's back clattering to the ground in a heaving, breathless heap.
                    He quickly recovered as the man kept moving through the increasingly dense undergrowth. The blood loss from the gunshot to the arm was taking its toll and he wasn't running as fast as he was earlier. Andrew was gaining on him. The man looked back over his shoulder at his pursuer. He held up his gun to shoot but Andrew beat him to it. Andrew shot the guy's leg and he crumbled sending his bullet into the ground at his feet.
                    Andrew rushed forward and tackled the guy pinning him once again. Now with two gunshot wounds he couldn't simply rise with Andrew in tow.
                    The police were scurrying through the woods to find the two men locked in battle.
         
         
          Chapter 32
                    Evan paced. It had been hours and he hadn't heard anything. He'd called Andrew's cell phone an obsessive number of times, but it was still off and went straight to voicemail. He got the same response from Engrid's. He had a sinking, sickening feeling that something had gone horribly wrong. He couldn't get the image of his lover's murdered body out of his head.
                    What was it- was Andrew going to be shot, stabbed, strangled, was he going to have his throat slit? Would his sweet, loving Andrew see his death coming? Would he feel his blood gushing from his veins? The images he had in his mind were so intense, so graphic they seemed real. He paced more, the frantic feeling of sheer panic rising in his throat. He debated with himself if he should try again to call Andrew. He knew it was pointless. The phone would still be turned off.
                    Dora was in her house, not faring much better. She didn't have the romantic attachment to the situation the way Evan did, she was nonetheless distraught. She and Engrid had been best friends for over 50 years. She was worried that something had happened to Engrid. She knew that Engrid didn't always know when to stop. She would keep charging full speed ahead until disaster struck.
                    Hopefully, this time, the disaster will be survivable. She wasn't sure what she'd do if Engrid died. Rose's death had been hard enough on her. Dora wasn't sure she'd be able to survive the death of another close friend.
         
         
                    Dylan sat in his jail cell charged with attempted murder. The authorities were coming shortly to haul him off to a federal prison. He would no longer be confined to the solitude of this city jail cell but instead cast into the sea of ruffians and gangs that he was convinced would kill him. Then the panic set in. His heart raced, his mind whirled trying to formulate a plan. He couldn't let this happen. It couldn't end like this. He heard the keys jingling on their large, iron ring that Jimmy always kept on him while in the police station.
                    They were coming for him. They shackled him and walked him out in the empty predawn darkness toward a converted school bus with metal wiring over all the doors and windows. The town of Deerfield slumbered lazily as Dylan was being carted off to pay his debt to society. There were other prisoners already in that iron cage on wheels when he boarded, but everyone sat as silently and orderly as headstones. Dylan needed a diversion for his plan to work. It would be an hour to an hour and a half drive to the prison. It would be at least that long before he was missed.
                    He slipped to the back row which was vacant. He'd waited until they were passing an oncoming semi and the driver was distracted making sure there would be no collision. The other prisons failed to notice or didn't care that he'd moved. What difference does it make now? They might have wondered. Our fate is sealed and so is yours. Dylan reached behind him to the metal bar that held the door latch in place. Surely, they would have secured it against a breach. It moved slightly. They were approaching a red traffic light. This was his chance. This was the last traffic light before they left town and drove out on to the lonely country highway.
                    Dylan pushed hard with his hands tied behind his back by handcuffs. The door lever gave just a little bit but it was enough to release the rear door. When the bus rolled to a stop, he pushed the door open just enough and half fell half jumped down onto the ground. He pushed the door closed with his forehead. Fate was on his side because the vibrations of the machine caused the bar to settle just enough to latch the door in place. He ran into a stand of pine trees beside the road as the light turned green and the bus drove off into the sunrise.
                    He had to get rid of the handcuffs. He had a pair of bolt cutters and side grinders in his garage, but how to get there? Then he saw the solution. Trusting old people was the answer. There was a church up ahead with cars in the parking lot. It must be an early morning Bible study group. Surely one of them would be old fashioned enough to leave their keys in their car. Or be so foggy minded this early in the morning to have forgotten. He sneaked to the edge of the paved parking area and scoped out possibilities.
                    He settled on a blue Buick Regal. It was new enough not to break down but old enough to be inconspicuous. It would attract little attention on Maple Avenue.
                    It took a while for him to formulate a plan. Why he'd been filled with hatred when he saw Andrew and Evan together and Myrtle's house, for some unknown reason, he came unhinged and wanted to kill one of them and make the other live the rest of his life in anguish. They just seemed too happy and it had to be stopped. After a while, he randomly picked the black-haired one as his victim. The blonde was the stronger of the two, plus he was Myrtle's son, and he wanted to reduce that flaxen-haired Adonis to a weeping wreck.
                    He would shoot Andrew right between the eyes and walk away leaving Evan or Engrid or someone to discover the bullet-ravaged body. He didn't see how anyone would pin the murder on him.
                    His mistake the day of the rubber bullet incident was confusing their cars. He thought Andrew was home, not Evan. They both drove black SUV's, one a Nissan Pathfinder the other a Jeep Cherokee...it was an honest mistake for a dishonest man. That was when his plan unraveled. Somehow the police got involved and instead of walking away scot free, he ended up in jail on two counts of attempted murder. Now his time to exact revenge had come. He walked up to the Regal and sure enough, the keys were still in the ignition. He sat down, started the car and drove off toward home to undo the shackles and cuffs in his garage, change clothes, get his pistol and drive back to Deerfield to finish his plan.
                    All the good Christian men and women sat in their church and knew nothing of the evil afoot.
         
         
          Chapter 35
                    Andrew called in sick to work and he lay on his bed. Evan was downstairs fixing breakfast before heading off to work. He'd been unable to find a sub; therefore, he had to go in. Andrew opened his eyes and Evan appeared in the doorway holding a tray of bacon and eggs and whole wheat toast. Andrew smiled and sat himself up in bed.
                    Evan sat the tray down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.
                    "Are you going to be okay?"
                    "I'll be fine. I'm just exhausted, a day of rest and I'll be as good as new."
                    "Good," he patted Andrew's leg, "Well I've got to get going. I'll see you in a few hours."
                    "I'll be here."
                    "Thank you for breakfast," he said, picking up a piece of toast and chewing slowly.
                    Evan hurried downstairs to his vehicle and drove away.
                    Dylan drove nonchalantly by and watched the house. Andrew sat alone on his bed munching on his breakfast trying to forget the traumatic events of the last few days. Dylan drove a little further up the street. A debate raged within him as to whether to risk being seen or risk taking on two people at nighttime. Andrew had the convenience of two nosy neighbors on either side. They both knew Dylan's face, but he couldn't wait anymore.
                    He parked a few houses down from Andrew's house and looked up and down the street. No one appeared to be out and about today. He felt a little guilty that poor, uninvolved Evan would come home to find Andrew's head spattered on the wall, but that was his fault for getting mixed up with the duplicitous likes of Andrew Garrison.
                    Dylan put the gun under his jacket and stepped out. October was over and it was a blustery November day; Thanksgiving was just around the corner. He walked quickly up to Andrew's house and went around back. He walked quickly to minimize the chance that Engrid or Dora would be looking out of their windows at any given moment. To his surprise and amazement, the backdoor was unlocked. He slipped inside and pressed himself against the wall.
                    From his spot, he could see up the stairs along the right side of the central hallway up to a door that was potentially Andrew's bedroom. He stood as silent as night trying to ascertain where in the house Andrew might be. He'd played enough games and he was tired of the theatrics. His plan was simple...walk up to Andrew and shoot him. There would be no lengthy explanations, no begging and pleading, just bang and it would all be over and he could go home and get a good night's sleep before retrieving his daughter from his villainous ex-mother-in-law who was now charged with Amanda's keeping and then riding off into the sunset never to set foot in Deerfield ever again.
                    He glanced around the long, wide hallway. Andrew could be anywhere inside the house. He pulled out his gun and tip-toed toward the kitchen door. He smelled breakfast food on the air and thought it quite possible that Andrew was still eating his last meal. No luck. He peeked in the living room and dining room with the same results. That only meant one thing- Andrew was upstairs. Dylan arrived at the base of the stairs. He slowly mounted the first step and stood as still and silent as a statue. He heard a faint rustling sound coming from upstairs. Andrew was definitely up there. He boldly took another stair.
                    Andrew was finishing his breakfast and putting everything on the tray to take it downstairs and clean it up before lying down on the couch for the rest of the day. He slid over to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor. He froze. He thought he heard something. He waited quietly and heard nothing more. He stood up and looked toward the door. He saw a shadow.
                             "Who's there?"
                             The shadow stopped.
                             "I said, 'who's there?'"
                             Still no response from the shadow.
                             Andrew rushed toward the door and met up with the creator of the shadow. Dylan shoved Andrew back into the bedroom. He stumbled over his own feet and crashed to the floor. Dylan pointed his gun at Andrew's face.
                             "Don't shoot. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in prison for this? It just seems so stupid."
                             "I won't. I've made other arrangements."
                             "The police will catch you. They'll know it was you."
                             That gave Dylan the slightest pause. Suddenly his world descended into flashes of light and darkness. He fell to the floor. Engrid stood over him with a baseball bat in her hand. Dylan lay motionless on the hardwood floor. Engrid went over and picked up the phone and dialed the police.
                             Andrew stood up and shook his head. "How did you know?"
                             "I saw him crossing the street. Andrew, I think it's time you invested in a security system."
                             "Why? I've got you and your Louisville Slugger."
                             "I won't be around forever, you know."
                             "Your ghost can guard the place."
                             "Nope. Once I'm gone, I'm done with this place. You're on your own after that."
                             "Can I offer you some breakfast before you go?"
                             "No, but do you have any rope?" she asked, then stifled a chuckle at the absurdity of everything.
                             "Probably out on the shed."
                             "Go get it, I'll stay here with him," she tapped her bat in her palm, "He won't go anywhere now."
                             Andrew got up, pulled on a pair of jeans and went down the stairs and retrieved a length of nylon rope from the tool shed in the backyard. The police arrived and hauled Dylan back to jail. This time, permanently.
         
         
          Chapter 36
                             Engrid busily prepared for Thanksgiving Day. She'd spent much of the day before putting up the decorations- various fall foliage, some pumpkins and cornucopias. Engrid opened her door and greeted her guests. It was Thanksgiving Day and her friends and new friends were gathered under her roof and sharing time together. A difficult and trying year was winding down as they were now starting the final approach to Christmas and the New Year.
                             Andrew, Evan, Dora and Myrtle had already gathered. This time it was Amanda and her grandmother, Cecilia.
                             "I'm glad you could make it!" Engrid said and ushered her new guests into the living room. She made introductions and then returned to the kitchen to finish preparing the Thanksgiving feast. She knew that as difficult as things had been for her this year, she knew that Amanda had been through much worse and she needed a warm, safe place to spend the holiday.
                             Once everyone was gathered around her dining room table, the feast spread before them, Engrid stood, smiling at the gathered assembly.
                             A hush fell across the room.
                             She began, "When this year is over, I can't say I'll be sad to see it go. My 89th year of life has been one of the most memorable and trying years thus far. I know we've all been through a lot, but at least we're here now and we all have a safe, warm place to spend this holiday. I am reminded how fortunate I am to have such good friends who are my family. I am so blessed in my life that I suppose I just wanted to share it with you all."
                             She sat down, and the feast commenced.
         
         
          The End