1

Not much was happening at the Blue Bonnet Cafe in Marble Falls, Texas. Very unusual for the busiest restaurant in town to have a slack day. An ice storm came down from Canada, mixed with the moisture from the Gulf of Mexico and crippled the small Texas town, as well as much of Texas from the panhandle down to San Antonio. It had not been this bad in sixty years.

There was not a car was in sight when Sally Ann pressed her nose against the frosted window, looking for any fool who would venture out in this wretched frozen mess. She made it to work only because her home was two short blocks up the hill. Walking carefully, slipping once, falling on her can, she baby-stepped to the cafe. The lone car in the driveway belonged to the owner of the Blue Bonnet, who practically lived at the cafe.

Sally Ann loved her little town, grew up here, and knew she would die here. She was a natural curly blond, in her mid-thirties and fairly attractive in a country way, could use a little more exercise in the hip area, but her strong trait was her friendly nature and outgoing personality. Located on the Colorado River in the Texas hill country in the middle of Highland Lakes, the largest chain of lakes in Texas, Marble Falls was a small and friendly town with only five thousand people. If she craved the city life, a weekend in Austin, only forty-five miles away, provided an outlet to listen to live music and raise hell. But soon, she craved the solitude of her quaint town atmosphere and was ready to run back home to comfortable solitude. It was the perfect place for a lake rat like herself to feel at home.

Sally Ann sat curled up in a front booth of the cafe with an electric heater by her feet and a blanket over her lap, flipping through the latest issue of Cosmopolitan, checking out all the fancy city-women’s clothes, quite happy in her torn jeans and sweat shirt, wearing no make up today, not even lipstick. She didn’t expect to see anyone with this weather, so why bother. Sally Ann looked over the latest and greatest ab exercises from a model that appeared as though she never looked sugar in the face, as she munched on a day-old piece of German chocolate pecan pie—loving every bite. Adamantly talking to the model in Cosmo, "Bet you can’t have a bite of this, ha, ha," licking the icing off her fork.

The cow bells hanging on the door clanged as it swung open. Looking up, she was startled to see a man come through the door. He was so bundled from the blistering wind, it was impossible to see his face. She dropped the magazine, hopped up, and went over to greet him, "Cold enough for ya, mister?"

"Buuuurrr," his body shook, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth. "Boy, am I glad you’re open."

Sally Ann didn’t recognize the stranger, but then she never met one either because of her friendly nature. "I didn’t hear your car drive up," she smiled, looking over his shoulder into the parking lot.

"Walked over from the Best Western. My battery is dead."

"I bet you’re frozen stiff. Knew you weren’t from around here, though. I know everybody in town." She grabbed a menu, "Hungry?"

"You bet!"

The man’s smile brightened the room when he took off his wool hat and the scarf around his neck. Sally Ann was awestruck at the stranger’s handsome appearance. Dark eyes, thick hair, tall, about thirty-five, she guessed.

The man took off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door and sat down in the booth that she motioned to using the menu.

"We’ll fix you up," putting him next to the front booth where she had been nestled earlier. She pulled the electric heater close by his feet.

"Thanks, doll," the man looked at her with gorgeous big brown eyes and gave her another soft smile. Sally Ann’s heart raced, her face flushed.

With stars in her eyes, she waltzed to the kitchen to announce to Frank they had a customer, leaving out the tidbit of information that he was a hunk. Peeking through the window from the kitchen, she watched the man until he closed the menu and then she bolted back to his booth and took his order for chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, brown gravy, fried okra and hot coffee. "Be sure to save room for pie," she smiled and bounced back to the kitchen and handed the order to Frank. She served the man coffee, and then sat back down at her booth with her Cosmo and began to flip through the pages.

The stranger turned his body in the booth, leaned over, smiling invitingly, "Want to sit with me? I could use the company."

How could she turn that down? Her heart raced a bit faster. "Sure," she jumped up and slid across from him. "What brings you through Marble Falls? Oh ... I’m Sally Ann, by the way."

"Great meeting you, Sally Ann. I’m Hank Smith," giving her that gorgeous smile again, extending his hand across the table.

"Oooo weee, your hands are like ice," holding his hand in both of hers to give some warmth. Much to her surprise, he extended his other hand to be comforted as well. "So ... uh ... what brings you here, Hank Smith?"

"I’m a watercolor artist. I paint landscape scenes. This area captured my heart when I came through last summer. I did some summer landscapes when I was here last time, and I wanted to come back for a winter viewpoint. I live in Chicago and I thought I would take a trip down south to get away from our horrible winter season," he laughed looking out the front window. "This winter storm surely caught me off guard. I didn’t know Texas got this type of weather."

"We don’t usually, but when it’s bad, it sucks. Ice storms like this are the worst. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen often."

"I’m used to driving on snow, but, wow, not this! I thought it better just to hide out at the motel and wait this storm out. Like an idiot, I left my lights on in my car and the battery is deader than a doornail."

"Too bad. Best not to drive anyway ‘til the ice melts."

"That’s what I thought, too. This quaint town is such a magical place that it inspired me to come back to try to catch that feeling on canvas."

"Wow, cool. This town does have a reputation for doing that. They say that the view from the hillside up from the river inspired Oscar Fox. He’s a famous composer. He was the favorite composer of Franklin Roosevelt. Grew up right here in Burnet County."

"Is that right? That’s interesting," Hank remarked.

"You probably know Fox by his song, ‘Home On The Range.‘"

"Me, too," she giggled. "Also, the Mormons believed they had found Zion when then settled here. Personally, I don’t know whether to believe that, but, I do know how pretty it is here. I never want to leave."

He laughed, sipping his coffee with his hands around the cup to warm them. "It looks like a great place to settle down and raise kids. I bet there’s not much crime like in Chicago."

"You’re right about that, but if you’re not in a hurry I could tell you a story that will curl your toenails."

"Where am I going to go? I’ve got all day, doll."

Ding. "Oh, there’s your lunch. I’ll be right back, honey buns."

Hank Smith smiled, loving this hometown girl.

Once in the back, her fingers frantically brushed through her shoulder-length blond curly locks. Sally Ann dug through her pocketbook and found her lipstick, checked herself in her compact, slapped on powder and lipstick and grabbed the hot lunch. "Yummy," she announced, to Hank Smith setting the large plate in front of him. "Get ready for the best chicken fried steak you ever sank your teeth into."

Hank’s eyes got big when he saw the huge serving. "My gosh, you expect me to eat all this?"

"Just wait ‘till you have a bite."

Hank dug in. "Ummm!" chewing with his mouth full. "You‘re right. This is the best chicken fried steak I’ve ever had." After a few more bites, "Okay, now ... you’ve gotten my curiosity piqued about this story of yours. Shoot."

Sally Ann sat down across from him, curled up in her blanket, "I guess it’s best if I start from the very beginning. It all started over by the Colorado River in this big ol‘ house at the end of the road."

2

"If you are going through hell, keep going."

- Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

Saturday afternoon was extraordinarily sultry in Marble Falls. The air was thick as hair on a qrizzly’s behind. On days like today, cows laid down and refused to leave the shade.

Jodie Greenlee, class Valedictorian, was preparing her speech just two weeks before high school graduation. She had procrastinated long enough. Her annoying headache grew more intense as she tried to concentrate. The thick air was stifling as she struggled with her speech. Her nose started to bleed. She dabbed it impatiently with a tissue. The phone rang and broke her concentration, "What!" she snapped a rude answer.

Fourteen years of best friend status, Tracy Alder knew when Jodie was having a crappie day. "Wow, you’re in crummy mood," Tracy observed.

Growing up together, the girls shared many happy memories through elementary, middle school and now, high school. "Oh, I’m sorry, Tracy. Actually, I’m really glad you called. I’ve been stumped writing this stupid speech, the air conditioner decided to crap out and I’m burning up. I really could use a break. For some reason, I can’t seem to hold my train of thought." Jodie rubbed the back of her neck and took a deep breath and fanned her face with her papers.

"The great Jodie Greenlee—stumped? Awww. Can’t say that I feel sorry for you. Why don’t you meet me for some frozen yogurt over at The Ol‘ Moon? I bet their air conditioner is working. How does that sound?"

All towns have a meeting place for teens drawn like bugs to a porch light in summer. Some had parking lots, local parks, but in Marble Falls, it was The Ol‘ Moon Diner. Specializing in the best greasy burgers, fries, shakes and frozen yogurt; it was the hip place to be seen for the younger crowd. It wasn’t the quality of the food that was sought after, it was the prime location on the hot corner of the main drag in town. The large windows in front made it suitable for checking out the other teens cruising back and forth, showing off their ride.

"Yes, that’s just what I need. My head’s about to split, my nose is bleeding, and I just feel out of sorts. I’ll meet you there in about fifteen minutes."

Jodie went upstairs to her bedroom, ran a hairbrush through her long golden hair and put on some rose-colored lipstick. Not only was she the smartest girl in her graduating class of ‘97, awarded a full scholarship to the University of Texas, but she had also been Homecoming Queen as well. "Blessed with beauty and brains," her dad would brag constantly. Proud of her scholarship, Jodie’s dad, Dan Greenlee, had given her a cherry-red ‘66 Ford Mustang that he painstakingly restored and presented to her for a graduation gift.

She went downstairs, grabbing her handbag and keys from the kitchen on her way out the door. Hopping in the Mustang, she patted the car’s steering wheel as if it were a well-behaved child and grinned ear to ear, as she did every time she got in it. Already, she was in a lighter mood. She called the car her ‘Red Pony.‘ Most of her friends didn’t appreciate the old classic cars, but Jodie did. As she told Tracy, "I can just feel the love that Daddy put into this car. I’m going to cherish it forever."

Jodie’s older and only sister, Miranda, was a junior at UT Austin, a short forty-five-minute drive from Marble Falls. Miranda was almost twenty-one, brown short hair and a little on the chunky side. She was not quite as bright or beautiful as Jodie, but a loving sister. It thrilled Jodie to think that they would be at the same college together next year.

Jodie’s parents had left for Austin Friday morning to spend the weekend with Miranda and to visit some old friends. They decided to stay overnight at their friends‘ home to catch up on old times over heated late night bridge, dominos, and canasta.

It always worried Martha to leave her daughter, Jodie, alone, but Dan Greenlee convinced Martha that Jodie needed more independence and would constantly lecture Martha to quit smothering her. "She’s going away to college next year. What will you do then? Call her every night to see whether she’s tucked in?" Dan would repeatedly have to remind his wife.

Jodie pulled into the driveway at The Ol‘ Moon just as Tracy was maneuvering her old beater Honda Civic into a parking space. A car-full of young boys drove by as the girls got out of their cars. Spotting Jodie, the rowdy boys honked and catcalled.

Tracy shouted back, waving her arms in the air, "Whooo hooo!"

Tracy Adler wore her brunette hair short enough to shampoo and run her fingers through and go. She was a low maintenance, rather plain looking girl who had a tendency to gain weight just by looking at food. Being around Jodie gave her confidence. Tracy skipped over to Jodie, hugged her and said, "Okay, I want to hear all about what happened last night. You’ve been pretty secretive. Since when do you hold out on me?"

"Gosh, can’t you even wait until we get inside?" Jodie begged.

After getting their yogurt and sitting in a back booth for privacy, Jodie began whispering softly to Tracy about her previous evening, but before getting two words out of her mouth, Tracy interrupted. "I just can’t believe you would go out with a married man," she giggled with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Shhhh, quiet—not so loud, Tracy! No one can ever find out about this. Understand? You better swear your guts out you won’t tell a soul," Jodie frowned, looking around the diner to see if anyone had overheard. There were only a few other patrons by, none close, none paying attention.

"Jodie, have I ever gossiped about anything you’ve ever told me before? Nooooo. You know you can trust me, girlfriend. Okay? So, spill the bean," Tracy demanded, clicking her nails impatiently on the table.

"Well ... a few months ago..." Jodie began again.

"What? A few months ago? And you’re just now telling me? " Tracy butted in, again.

"Hey, I’m not bragging here. It was when I was doing volunteer work for the Young Republicans ... he came through Marble Falls on his campaign tour. It was a few days after my birthday. When he came into the office, I was working that day, sorting through papers and posters and getting things organized. It was a shock to see him walk through the door. After reading so much about him, you know, like ... there he was in the flesh. Well ... we were alone in the office at the time. I was so surprised when I saw him that I dropped the papers out of my hands. I—It was so embarrassing ... I just stood there like a bimbo staring and stuttering. He came over and shook my hand. My stomach flip-flopped. I mean—he was irresistibly gorgeous! He helped me pick up the papers off the floor, never taking his eyes off me. I totally lost it ... my face was beet-red. I believe he was as attracted to me as I was to him. I didn’t have a clue what to say or do. So then he—"

"What heterosexual male isn’t attracted to you, Jodie? I feel like an ugly slug next to you. I hang around you hoping some of your good looks and brains will rub off on me," Tracy interrupted again sitting on the edge of her seat, "Okay ... go on ... go on."

"Look—this is hard enough telling you this without you constantly interrupting me. So ... shut up, okay?" Jodie raised her voice. "Well, to make a long story short, he has called me every night since we met. Can you believe it? Every night! He says he is in love with me. He tells me he filed for divorce, but because of the election, he keeps away from the press. He tells me he is staying in a condo in downtown Austin. He goes by the house where his wife is living just to keep the snooping press and neighbors from starting rumors."

"So I guess fooling around with a seventeen-year old is like playing with dynamite." Tracy snickered.

Jodie glared at her friend, her hackles raised like an angry cat, "I can’t help myself. He is just absolutely luscious! His eyes are so piercing when he looks at me, I feel like he is hypnotizing me. He is so mature compared to the other twerps I’ve dated."

"Of course he’s mature ... he could be your father for Christ’s sake, Jodie. How old is he? Thirty-five, thirty six? I just think you’re playing on dangerous ground here. You really should cut this off before you end up in the headlines, or worse yet—dead." She paused to catch her breath then started up again. "You know nothing about this man’s character. He could hurt you and no one would ever know. I’m really afraid for you, and I can’t believe you‘re just now telling me about this!"

"Well, can you blame me for not telling you? Listen to you! You’re not my mother! I don’t need to be lectured like this." Jodie lashed out. "Besides, it’s a little late to stop things now after what happened last night. He came over to the house. As you know, Mom and Dad are in Austin for the weekend. Of course, we can’t be seen in public because everybody knows who he is. I can’t believe a man like that would be interested in me. I mean, a man of his status. He’s coming back over tonight. Besides my diary, Tracy, you’re the only one I’ve confided to about him."

"Oh my God! What did happen last night? Did you—you know—do it?" Tracy was all eyes, intent on Jodie’s reluctance to expel more information.

Jodie squirmed uncomfortably from her friend’s meddling. "Geeze—you are too much," her face blushed as she stared down at her yogurt and swirled her spoon. Her nose started to bleed again.

Tracy squealed, "Eeeek, your nose is bleeding. What’s wrong with you?"

Jodie angrily yanked out a paper napkin from the holder and dabbed at her nose. "I’ve got to go. I’m cooking dinner for him so I need to run by the grocery and pick up some salmon," she said, holding a tissue over her nose.

"I wish you’d reconsider. I have a real uneasy feeling here," Tracy’s face showed concern as she grabbed onto Jodie’s arm. "I’m sorry, Jodie. I really don’t want to put a damper on your feelings, but you could get into big trouble. Does the name Paula Jones ring a bell? Gennifer Flowers? How ‘bout ... oh, what’s her name ... the bimbo caught with Gary Hart that ruined his career? And, remember Mary Jo Kopechne? She was the girl that drowned in Teddy Kennedy’s car. Before our time, but still ... she’s dead. I’d hate for something like that to happen to you, Jodie."

"Look, why don’t you shut up! I can handle myself," Jodie yelled angrily yanking her arm away. "I never should have told you anything. You don’t have any right to judge me and this is none of your business!" Jodie grabbed her purse and stormed toward the door without saying goodbye.

Tracy sat dumbfounded. Her feelings hurt, but more than that she was desperately worried about her best friend. Tears welled in her eyes, watching through the front window as Jodie spun out of the parking lot onto Main Street. Jodie had always been someone she looked up to—so level headed—until now. Today she seemed like a different person and ... come to think about it ... it had been since her birthday that she had been acting weird. It seemed that Jodie’s mood swings had been drastic. One minute she was happy, then the next she seemed to be in the twilight zone—even disoriented. Now she had been having strange recurring dreams, headaches all the time and nosebleeds. Something wasn’t right. What is going on with her anyway? Although her friend had hurt her feelings, she still loved her very much. Tracy couldn't shake the uneasy feeling she had about Jodie. "I should have just minded my own business as Jodie said," Tracy mumbled quietly under her breath, staring down at the remains of her melted strawberry yogurt. "Shit!" She threw down her spoon and sulked, slump-shouldered out to her Honda. Driving home Tracy decided, at the last minute, to go home and gather a few things to spend the night with her grandparents in Wimberley. Grandpa Adler always made her feel better. She hoped he could pull her of this depression.

The man parked towards the back of the big house on Los Escondidos Avenue on the shore of the Colorado River, and walked to the porch with an aura of arrogance. The house was set far off the road on five secluded woody acres The last house on the street provided complete privacy, totally surrounded by old, tall pecans and live oak trees. He was pleased with the fact that no one could see him come or go.

At 6:30 sharp, he rang the doorbell. Jodie was in the kitchen preparing poached salmon, broccoli, and rice pilaf. Once a week, she cooked dinner for her parents. Her mom always insisted both her girls learn to cook before they were on their own. Jodie took off her apron and straightened her tight-fitting, low-cut, black dress. Running her fingers through her hair, she tied the silver silk scarf around her neck that her parents had given her for her birthday. She skipped off to the front door, and opened it anxiously. He stood there like a dream. She looked up at the tall handsome man with awe, her mouth slightly open. He stood six feet, four inches, thick dark hair combed back off his forehead, bushy dark eyebrows, and a chiseled jaw line. Vanity came naturally to this man. Without a doubt he could woo any woman he set his sights on. Dressed in a dark navy suit, white shirt, red tie, he appeared exquisitely distinguished. His smile was worthy of any dental advertisement. His hands were full of a dozen yellow long stem roses, a bottle of white wine and his briefcase. Grabbing his arm, Jodie yanked him through the door. He ducked his head as he entered, setting his briefcase on the floor. Hurriedly he placed the roses and wine on the table by the door. His attention was totally fixed on Jodie as he picked her up and spun her around, hugging her tightly. Her body hard against his as he pressed her to the wall and kissed her passionately, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. Jodie’s cheeks were flushed and she was breathing deeply. She pushed him gently away and picked up the roses, holding them between them. "Thank you," Jodie blushed, as she smelled the roses and turned to put them in a vase on a table in the living room.

"You look beautiful, my dear," he said, kissing her softly again on her lips. He held up the wine bottle, "Do you like Poully Fuisse?"

"I have no idea," she shrugged slightly. "I’ve never had any wine before. You’re contributing to the delinquency, you know," Jodie giggled.

"I hope you won’t turn me into the authorities," he grinned, walking towards the kitchen. "Something smells delicious. Where’s your wine opener?"

During dinner, Jodie could barely swallow her food as she stared at the handsome man across the table from her, not believing he was actually there in front of her. She didn’t bother with the dishes. The wine had gone to her head and the room was spinning. Her parents, strict Baptists, didn’t drink and disapproved of having alcohol in the house. As soon as he finished eating, Jodie hopped onto his lap, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Where did you learn to cook like that, baby? That was excellent." the man said, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"My mom and sister all love to cook. They taught me."

He poured the remainder of wine into her glass and handed it to her. "Your mom did a fine job." He winked and stroked her cheek with his fingertips and forced her to sip from the wine glass. "As I told you, I’ve filed for divorce, baby. I’ve got the papers in my briefcase. When you come to Austin this fall, things will be different between us. No more sneaking around. I can’t keep my mind off you. I think I’d like to see your bedroom again," he kissed the nape of her neck. "I couldn’t stop thinking of last night after I left you. You’re driving me wild."

She rose from his lap and stood in front of him pressing her body into his face, holding his head tightly against her breasts. Somewhat fuzzy-headed, she led him towards the stairway to her bedroom. Her heart beat wildly as she clutched his hand climbing the stairs. Jodie stumbled over to the night stand, lit a candle, swaying back and forth, trying to hold the match steady. She turned off the lights and sat on the side of the bed. He walked over to her and held out his arms to her. She hugged him and pulled off his jacket. He loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. His hand slipped underneath her dress caressing her thighs. She moaned as he fondled her buttocks. Her body melted from his touch. Her head was spinning from the wine, or maybe it was from his intoxicating aura. She turned her back towards him so he could unzip her dress. Slowly, softly he kissed her white shoulders, and pulled her dress down over her arms. Chills swept over her body. He untied her scarf and pulled down her panties. Kissing and licking her neck, he quietly whispered, "I’m so crazy about you, baby. You’re all I ever think about. It’s hard to concentrate on my work."

She lay on the bed watching him, her eyes partially closed, as he removed the rest of his clothes. Standing by the bed; he looked magnificent gazing down at her in the soft candlelight. Jodie leaned up towards him feeling vulnerable, even embarrassed at her nakedness, but as he came down on top of her, her feelings were replaced with an intense longing she had never felt before. It was heaven feeling his bare skin next to her. Her body ached for him as she lunged her hips hungrily toward his.

"Slow down," he whispered, "We have the whole night ahead of us, my darling." Ecstasy overcame her watching his face in the shadows of the flickering candle. His dark eyes glowed like deep pools she was falling helplessly into. His large hand stroked lightly under her left breast, warming her bare skin as his eyes washed over her with arousal. She felt her nipples coming erect; his head lowered and caressed her breast carefully, slowly, driving her wild with passion. His tongue found its way back to her open mouth. She felt her body shiver as he moved deep inside her. She moaned with blissfulness. She had never felt so complete.

She woke abruptly, glanced over at the clock on the night stand. A quarter after one. She went to the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, and stared at herself in the mirror Guilt and helplessness surrounded her. I wonder if he really has filed for divorce? Returning to bed, she found him sleeping soundly. She slipped under the covers to snuggle next to his body but he was unresponsive. Forty-five minutes went by; she gazed at a spot on the ceiling, her mind racing. Finally, she got out of bed and picked up his shirt and put it on. A key fell to the carpet. She replaced it in his pocket. Remembering she had forgotten to put water in the vase for the roses; she tiptoed out of the room and crept down the stairs. As she passed by the living room, she saw his briefcase sitting on the floor by the door. She looked up towards her bedroom. All was quiet. She had to see the divorce papers for herself to believe it. She fondled the latch on the case. Locked. Suddenly, she thought of the key that fell to the floor from his shirt pocket. Could it be? She put the key in the lock. Yes. It clicked open. There were no divorce papers in the briefcase. What she found was a file marked: ‘JoLynn Greenlee’. The papers were full of information about her. Her graduation picture, address, phone number, personal information about her family. Even pictures were taken of her that she was unaware of being photographed in the school parking lot, and going in the grocery store with her mother. What the hell could this possibly mean? Oddly enough, the information was dated before she met him. Even before her birthday in March. Shit! Had this all been a set up or what? There were other folders as well. Five, maybe six more, other girls, similar information on them as well as their pictures. The bastard! What is going on here? Her eyes filled with hot tears as she fumbled through the folders. She was so engrossed, she didn’t hear the man come up behind her.

When the man saw her snooping through his private belongings, his jaw tightened, his knuckles white, fists clenched in anger. He quietly watched her going through his papers. She still didn’t hear him as he tiptoed up behind her. Some secrets just couldn’t be shared—not in his business. Damn, and she was so hot in bed, he thought. Quickly, he gained composure of his fury. A plan raced through his head. He reached down and stroked her long beautiful blond hair.

Jodie screamed and jumped up, waving the folders in her hand and slapped him across his shoulder with them. "You lousy creep! You haven’t filed for divorce! What the hell is all this about?" Jodie flung the papers in his face. "Get your clothes and the rest of your crap and get the hell out of my house! I never want to see you again!"

"Calm down, Jodie ... calm down, baby," grabbing her arm to soothe her rage.

She jerked away. "Bastard! Calm down? Calm down? What is there to be calm about? You dirty creep! Don’t you ever touch me again! What ever it is your up to, I want nothing to do with it!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jodie charged up the stairs to her bedroom and turned to yell back at him, "And ... I am not your ... baby. You make me sick." She turned and ran the rest of the stairs, taking two at a time to her room.

Anger swelled; his nostrils flared, as he charged up the stairs to her bedroom. His fists were tightly clenched. When he entered the girl’s room, she was crying hysterically lying on her stomach spread across the bed.

He took a deep breath to control his wrath. "Jodie ... listen to me, please," he said, sitting on the side of the bed beside her. His hand stroking her back, he said, "I can explain ..."

Jodie jerked away, repulsed by his touch. She sat up clutching a pillow to her chest. What a stupid fool I’ve been, she thought. "Explain? Yeah, right! Tracy was right about you. I should have listened. I hate you! Now, get out—don’t ever call me again!" she sobbed, pointing to the door.

He grabbed her arms, his face reddened, and shouted, "Who is Tracy? You little bitch! Have you told someone about me?" shaking her body as he screamed. "I said, WHO IS TRACY?" His face now a deeper maroon ; his jaw clenched tighter.

The look on his face frightened her. Her anger quickly turned to fear. She pulled her arms away from his tight grasp trying to get away from him, but he was too quick... too strong. Overpowering her, he yanked her back on the bed by her left arm. There was a loud crack as her head hit against the headboard. She gasped with pain, holding her head. The room was spinning. Oh, God, Tracy was right about him. Why? Why? Why didn’t I listen? I’m such a stupid idiot.

Jodie tried to concentrate enough to think how she would get away from this raging maniac. Her head was too fuzzy. Too much wine. Again, she desperately tried to pull away from this crazed lunatic. Her hand stretched out for the lamp by the bed to use as a weapon. He grabbed her wrist and pushed the lamp to the floor. He slapped her face hard, spinning her head so harsh she felt her neck crack. Jodie let out a loud scream and clawed his face.

He felt his face. Blood. "Damn it, you bitch!" he slapped her face again harder. "Answer me, goddamn it, you little whore! Who the hell is Tracy? Tell me now!"

Jodie spit in his face. Momentarily, he froze in disbelief. His eyes narrowed into slits barely open enough to see. "No one treats me like that! Bitch!" The whites of his eyes turned red. His hand pressed heavily on Jodie’s chest holding her body against the bed. She tried to squirm free, but he was way too strong. He reached for the scarf that was lying next to her pillow. Quickly, he wrapped it twice around her neck. Pulling it as hard as could, he twisted and held the scarf tightly. The girl kicked and tossed her body to fight but was unable to budge under the weight of his large athletic body that was straddling her. She tried to scream. No sounds would come out. Gurgles came from her throat as she choked, trying to gasp a tiny breath. Her nails dug into his bare arms until blood dripped from the wounds. Air. She needed air. Only a bit. Please, just a bit of air. Oh, please. As if reading her mind the large man tightened he scarf ... again tighter ... tighter. The lights began dimming. Funny, she didn’t remember blowing out the candle. Then darkness. The light was gone. Jodie’s convulsing body slumped onto the bed. Her eyes staring blankly into his, but she could no longer see the handsome man.

Carefully he removed his shirt from Jodie’s limp body. He looked down at Jodie crumpled in her sheets. He pulled the scarf away from her neck and checked for a pulse. Nothing. He walked to the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. The wounds on his face and arm were both bleeding profusely. Damn. This will be hard to explain to the wife; he thought as he dabbed his face and arm with a wet tissue and flushed it down the toilet. Taking a washcloth from the bathroom, he wiped down everything he remembered touching. There was nothing he could do about the DNA evidence. His blood was on the sheets and his tissue under her nails. As long as I can get out of here without being seen, there is nothing that can tie me to her. Tracy. Dammit. Who the hell is this Tracy? After dressing he looked around the room, double checking everything and went downstairs and spotted the flowers. He took them from the vase and laid them by the front door beside his briefcase. He picked up the scattered folders and papers that Jodie had flung at him. In the kitchen, he placidly did the dishes, dried them and put them away. At the front door, he remembered the empty wine bottle in the kitchen trash. He dashed back inside and removed the plastic liner from the trash can and put in a fresh one, carefully using paper towels as gloves. He carried the trash to the front door and put the roses in the bag, wiped down the flower vase, and put it back on the table by the door. He turned off all the lights, rubbed down everything on his way out with the washcloth. He locked and closed the door behind him as he held the rag, looking cautiously into the darkness of night. Nothing. No sounds except the peaceful chirping of crickets. He didn’t even disturb their rhythmic cadences as he walked to his car.