When Hope Was Gone

By Cheryl Denton

After trauma turns Laura Sutherland's life upside down in 1966, she flees the U.S. to escape the man who intends to kill her. From Cincinnati to Europe and onward to Africa, she hides with the assistance of a Franciscan monk.

Keeping secrets and telling lies to stay alive, Laura and Mack, a Scottish doctor, get drawn back into the killer's world in 1977 when an orphaned child must be seen by a specialist in Cincinnati.

With the help of a monk, an arson investigator, and a hippie, Laura and Mack devise a plan that will either help authorities capture the killer or cost them their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheryl Denton
• Release date: Feb 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9780984674770

Cheryl Denton

Cheryl Denton wrote the first book in The Darkfire Series, Among the Ashes, to give readers a glimpse into the mind of a person suffering from PTSD. When Hope Was Gone, the second book, addresses the challenges of parenting a child with PTSD. The third novel, Losing Faith, portrays a woman who develops PTSD when a stalker terrorizes her. Mrs. Denton writes all of these novels out of her personal experiences. Her Spiritual Growth Series gently guides survivors through the depression, anxiety, and low self-esteem which many experience. As a writer, Cheryl Denton has contributed a large body of work through her blog for survivors of abuse and trauma, www.cheryldenton.com/blog. Much of her writing follows the theme of rising above life’s challenges. Over the years, she has also worked as a magazine editor and book editor.

Book preview

Chapter 1

November 25, 1966

Laura, you are an orphan no more. The shriveled old Sicilian who stood before Laura Sutherland’s linen-draped dinner table leaned heavily on a cane. Tomorrow, you will be a member of my family, a Coletta. He smiled, revealing a row of brown teeth.

The bride-to-be smiled up at him, unsure of what to say. All her life, she’d felt like second-hand clothes nobody wanted. Now, she belonged to a family.

He gestured to the crowd in one of the mirrored private dining rooms at Cincinnati’s Omni Netherland Plaza Hotel. You see all these people?

She looked across the opulent room where her fiance’s closest relatives— all 126 of them—were finishing their dinners with cassata and espresso. Yes.

He turned back to her and tapped his shrunken chest with gnarled fingers. All are here because of me and my beautiful wife, God rest her soul. He made the sign of the cross.

She could see the love he felt for his departed wife. How many children do you have?

He stood a little taller. Seventeen.

The groom, Sonny Coletta, stood to hug the old man, his jet-black hair contrasting with the old man’s white wisps. Thanks for tonight, Poppa.

Sonny’s great grandfather winked at him. Tomorrow, you start your own family, eh?

Laura felt her cheeks growing hot and looked down at the napkin in her lap. She’d never been with a man before, and she was nervous about her wedding night. She wanted children, but she hoped the family didn’t expect her to have seventeen!

After the old man left, Sonny sat down and took her fair hand in his deeply tanned fingers. Do you have any idea what a beautiful gift you are?

Her best friend from high school, Rita Coletta, had introduced her older brother to Laura on New Year’s Eve. Even though she’d only known him eleven months, she was certain he was her soul mate. In her mind, he was the gift, and she still couldn’t believe he chose her. With the band playing I Got You Babe in the corner of the room, she whispered, I’ll love you forever.

I can’t wait for forever to get started. He raised one dark eyebrow and squeezed her knee under the table.

Sonny’s brother-in-law, Teddy, approached their table. It’s getting late. You ready?

Sonny glanced at his watch and turned to Laura. The bachelor party’s supposed to start in twenty minutes, but I’d rather stay here with you.

You’re going to have me forever. She straightened his red pocket square. Go have fun while you’re still a free man.

See you tomorrow at one-thirty. Kissing her, he stood and then turned back with a look of concern. How are you getting home?

Rita said she’d drive me.

Teddy stepped in. She had to leave an hour ago, on account of her migraine.

Laura folded her napkin and laid it on the table. I’ll just walk home then.

Sonny shook his head. Not by yourself at night, and especially not through Clifton.

She’d learned early how to take care of herself after her parents died in a bus accident, leaving her to grow up in an orphanage. Really, I don’t mind.

He leaned across the table. Father Quincy, would you mind driving Laura back to her apartment?

The Franciscan monk who was going to sing a solo at the wedding looked startled by his request. I...I don’t have a car.

She stood and tried to reassure the groom. Gino can walk me. It’s a nice night.

Sonny’s face darkened, and he opened his mouth to say something.

Teddy pulled him away. "Keep your mouth shut! You can’t start telling her what to do until after the wedding. He laughed and slapped Sonny on the back. Come on! The boys are waiting."

Outside on Fifth Street, Sonny’s teenage nephew, Gino, asked Laura, Where to?

On the Ohio River, a barge’s deep horn toned twice. She shivered and pulled her wrap around her shoulders. Clifton.

I’ll call a cab. He turned to flag one of the cabs parked down the street.

I’d rather walk. She headed west on Fifth, and he fell into step beside her.

Sonny told me to get you a cab.

Oh, come on. It’s not that far. A brisk wind picked up and whisked her hair across her face. I hope it’s not this windy tomorrow.

He buttoned his overcoat. For your sake, I hope it doesn’t snow.

As they continued along Elm, she thought about her wedding day. She felt a little nervous with such a huge crowd coming to witness the event. Over 500 people would be there, most of them Sonny’s friends and family. But happiness trumped nervousness when she remembered that by this time tomorrow night, she’d be Mrs. Salvatore P. Coletta.

Gino glanced over his shoulder. Are you sure you don’t want me to call a cab?

No, the walk’ll do me good. I ate so much tonight, I may not be able to zip up my wedding gown. She laughed.

A car squealed around the corner.

Run! Gino sprinted down an alley and disappeared.

She didn’t know what was happening, and there was no way she could run in heels. She stepped behind a massive column in front of a vacant building. Digging through her sequined bag for the little .38 Sonny had taught her to shoot, she realized she had left it in her other purse.

The speeding car, an enormous dark green Lincoln, screeched to a stop.

Two men got out, with their hands shoved into the pockets of their long, dark overcoats. One of them wore a black fedora, the other a baseball cap.

From where she was standing behind the column, Laura peered into the little market across the street. Inside, a man was sweeping the floor. When Fedora Man pushed open the front door, she could hear little bells tinkling.

The driver shouted something at the shop keeper.

Fedora Man leveled a shotgun at the sweeper, who dropped his broom.

More shouting ensued, and then the shop keeper made an obscene gesture at Fedora Man.

Boom! Smoke blew out of the barrel of the gun.

She saw the shop keeper falling backwards into a display, knocking jars of gum balls and candy to the floor. Holding her breath, she watched one red gum ball as it seemed to roll in slow motion across the counter. At the end, it dropped to the floor.

Father Quincy hurried around the corner and stepped behind her.

What’s happening? she whispered.

The husky Sicilian monk whispered, Mafia.

She gasped. You mean like loan sharks and hit men?

Exactly. Now be quiet. If they see us, we’re going to be in big trouble.

Her attention turned to the two hit men. She peered around the column as they ran out the door.

Fedora Man paused to light something in a bottle, which he tossed into the store.

They jumped into their car. Making a three-point turn, the headlights shone directly into her eyes. She stepped back behind the column and blinked.

Dear Lord, I think they saw you. The monk pressed her body closer to the column with his.

Her stomach knotted, and the bitter taste of coffee came back up into her mouth. She could feel his heart thumping against her back.

She listened to the car creeping away from them. Just as she thought they were safe, the brake lights glowed in the storefront windows across the street. The car backed up and idled directly in front of them. She began to shiver so hard, her teeth chattered.

One of the men called out, Your young lady must be awful cold, Father. Can we give you a lift?

Father Quincy put his hand on her shoulder. Don’t say a word. Let me do the talking. He pulled Laura from behind the column. That’s very kind of you, sir, but we’ll just keep walking. He held tight to her elbow and hurried along Elm Street.

The car backed up and came alongside them. The wind blew exhaust fumes into her face.

Fedora Man called out, Father!

The monk halted, and Laura froze. She heard Frank Sinatra singing It Was a Very Good Year on the Lincoln’s radio.

Fedora Man said in a gravelly voice that chilled her, Get in.

She knew her odds of survival were not good if she got into the car with these thugs who’d just killed a man. Squeezing Father Quincy’s arm, she whispered, No!

We didn’t see a thing, he whispered close to her ear. You were fiddling with your shoe. Got it?

He seemed so confident of himself, she decided to trust he knew what he was doing. She nodded and said nothing more as he opened the back door of the Continental. She slid across the seat, and he climbed in beside her. The inside of the car stank of cigarettes and cheap after-shave.

The car began moving, and Father Quincy leaned forward. If you wouldn’t mind dropping us at the rectory where one of the brothers’ll be meeting me— near the corner of Liberty and Sycamore—we’d appreciate it.

The driver said nothing, but he watched Laura in the rearview mirror.

She thought if she made a mental note of the man’s features, she could identify him later. But she couldn’t see him clearly in the dark.

Fedora Man lit a cigarette. We’re going to take a little detour on the way to the rectory.

She felt like throwing up. Where were these men going to take them? We didn’t see anything, she blurted. Please, let us go.

Father Quincy squeezed her hand hard.

Her instincts told her to scream. Instead, she pressed her lips together, hoping Father Quincy would know what to do next.

Fedora Man looked at the driver. Jimmy, you know whose girl this is?

The driver’s gaze met hers in the rear view mirror. Whose?

Sonny Coletta’s. He reached back with his Smith and Wesson, sliding the cold black barrel up under the hem of her dress.

She shivered as it glided along her thigh. Clutching her dress hem, she held it down with trembling hands.

Father Quincy grabbed the barrel and turned it towards the floor. Leave her alone!

The car sped up and roared around the corner.

She tried to note where they were heading. First, they drove north on Linn, then west on Bank. After that, they made so many turns, she didn’t know where they were in the darkened back streets. A train whistle blasted nearby, and she figured they must be near Union Terminal.

The car stopped with a jerk, and Fedora Man pointed the gun at her. Get out.

Father Quincy took her hand and helped her out. Her heart pounded. Glancing around, she noted they were under a viaduct. Was it Sixth Street?

Fedora Man came around the back of the car and pointed his revolver at Father Quincy’s head. Okay, Jimmy, it’s time.

She gasped. Time for what? Were they going to kill Father Quincy?

The driver got out, and she noticed he was only a boy…sixteen or seventeen at the most. His dark hair lay in loose curls close to his head, and his chiseled features highlighted by the car’s interior lights made him look like Michelangelo’s David. He shoved his hands into his overcoat pockets and stood beside the car, shivering.

Just so’s the two of you won’t tell nobody about what you just saw back there, Jimmy’s gonna give the little lady something to help her forget. Fedora Man winked at Father Quincy.

She felt faint and clutched Father Quincy’s arm.

The young monk was shivering. For the love of God, man, don’t lay a hand on her!

Raising his revolver overhead, Fedora Man slammed it down hard on the top of Father Quincy’s head.

The monk nearly knocked Laura out of her high heels as his body slumped over. She heard his head hit the uneven gravel with a sickening thud, like a watermelon cracking open.

Don’t never kill a priest, Fedora Man told Jimmy. It’s bad luck. He turned to point the gun again at Laura and took a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. Come on. We ain’t got all night.

A match flared, and she smelled the sulphur.

Jimmy sauntered towards her, a twisted smile on his face.

She couldn’t breathe, and her mouth went dry.

Turning to run, she heard Fedora Man say, I wouldn’t do that if I was you.

He cocked the gun, and she was terrified he would shoot her. She froze, her eyes searching the darkness for some escape route.

In the distance, sirens began wailing. Fedora Man said, Hurry up, kid.

Jimmy’s arm clamped hard around her waist, and his other hand groped under her skirt.

Panic welled up inside her. Stop it! She pummeled him with her elbows.

His hand stopped moving.

Fedora Man stepped in. Let a real man show you how it’s done, kid.

Jimmy let go, and she dashed in the opposite direction, hoping to get away.

Fedora Man grabbed her wrist.

She felt herself being jerked back, and something in her right forearm snapped. Pain, followed by a wave of nausea, washed over her. Let me go!

He slapped her across the mouth. Shut up!

She tasted blood, and a knife-like pain shot into her temple.

He shoved her, and she stumbled backwards. Landing hard on the ground, the back of her head struck the concrete viaduct column. She saw stars and thought she might pass out. Too stunned to move, all she could think of was how hard she had struggled to save herself for Sonny. And now, this stranger was going to steal her greatest treasure.

She felt unbearable pain as Fedora Man raped her. Gravel cut into her back. His breath smelled of whisky and cigarettes. She turned her head away, wondering if he was going to kill her.

Use your head. Try to identify him. Forcing herself to look at him, all she could see beneath his hat brim was a shadow across his forehead and over his eye.

The instant he was done, Jimmy fell on her.

Fedora Man laughed. Give her something she won’t forget!

She dug her fingernails into the gravel, unable to focus at all on anything other than staying conscious. Sharp pains made her scream.

Jimmy slapped her in the temple. Shut up! He fumbled in his pocket. A silver revolver clattered onto the gravel.

Seizing it, she jammed the gun into his belly and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Her ears rang. His body grew heavy on top of her, and the smell of gunpowder burned her nostrils.

Jimmy! Fedora Man shouted.

While Jimmy was still covering her, she pointed the gun at Fedora Man with her trembling left hand and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

Fedora Man leaped aside and swore. Then he aimed his gun at her.

She tried to keep him in the sights and fire again, but her hand trembled so much, she was afraid she might drop the gun.

When he fired several rounds, she heard a bullet sizzle past her head. She felt faint. Closing her eyes, she squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

He swore and dodged behind the open car door, pointing his gun at her. You’re dead! You hear me? Dead!

Determined to stay alive, she took careful aim at his head and pulled the trigger a third time.

Bang!

Nearby sirens joined the wailing ones in the distance.

You’re gonna pay for what you done to Jimmy! Leaping into the Lincoln, he slammed the door and roared away, his tires spitting gravel.

As the Lincoln’s tail lights disappeared, she sat up and shoved Jimmy off of her. He toppled over onto his back. His wide-open eyes glinted under the dim light of a nearby street lamp, like two amber marbles left behind on a playground overnight.

She rolled over onto her hands and knees, pulled up her underpants, and tried to stand. The ground tilted, and she threw up. Crawling over to Father Quincy, she shook him. Wake up! Wake up!

He came around and opened his eyes. He lurched upright, and then put his hand to his head with a groan. What happened?

She sat back on her heels, covering her face with her left hand. It felt sticky, so she drew it away. Looking down, she saw Jimmy’s blood running from her fingers to her elbow. She wiped it on her skirt. I shot him.

He looked over at Jimmy’s body. Then he put his arm around her shoulder. Did he hurt you?

Hurt was too small a word for what had happened. She nodded.

Where’s the other guy…the one with the hat?

He left.

Thank God.

She was afraid he’d come back for them. We’d better get out of here.

He stumbled to his feet and helped her to stand. Can you walk?

Her entire body was trembling, and just standing up created searing pains. She wasn’t sure what hurt the worst…her head, broken arm, or insides. I don’t know.

He held her upright. I’ll find a cab, and we’ll go straight to the hospital.

At University Hospital, many of the staff members knew her as one of the recent nursing grads. She froze. No! I don’t want anybody to see me like this.

Laura, you’re hurt. You need to see a doctor.

She couldn’t bear the thought of a man examining her. She pushed his arm from around her waist. I’m not going to the hospital.

Okay, okay. I’ll call a doctor who makes house calls.

Too ashamed to be seen, she dug her heels into the gravel. Then my roommates will know what happened.

Yes, I suppose they will.

She didn’t want anyone to ever know what had happened to her. Not a doctor, not her room mates, and most certainly not Sonny. She was no longer his beautiful gift. She felt more like yesterday’s rotting, leaking bag of garbage than a treasure. Take me to your place.

The friary?

Yes.

It’s out in Mt. Airy, miles from here.

She didn’t care how far it was, as long as it provided a place where she could hide from her shame. Together, they staggered out of the darkness towards the city lights. What if he comes back for us?

I don’t think he will.

You told them we were going to the rectory.

I did?

Yes. When we first got in the car.

He muttered something under his breath. Can’t go there then.

She felt like curling up and crying, but she was too scared to stop moving.

What are we going to do?

He paused for a moment. I know someone who can help us.

Who?

Father Simon. I’ll call him, and he’ll come get us.

She was beginning to realize he might be as scared as she was. He didn’t look much older than Sonny. Sorry I got you into this.

You didn’t do this. We were both in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all.

She was thankful he happened to show up just as Fedora Man and Jimmy killed the shop keeper. If he hadn’t, she was sure she’d be dead now.

They turned onto Central Parkway, where street lamps glowed with golden light. A couple hurried past, and the man stared at Laura.

She felt as if everyone knew what had happened to her. If there had been a flashing neon arrow pointing directly at her that read, No Longer a Virgin, she couldn’t have felt more conspicuous.

At last, they stopped at a phone booth. Father Quincy said, You get in first.

With you?

Yes. If that guy comes back, I want to be able to protect you.

She hesitated and then stepped into the phone booth.

He sidled in behind her. Her heart lurched and she feared an arm might grab her around the waist again. She whirled around, feeling as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

What’s wrong?

She shook her head and looked away. All she wanted was Sonny. And then in the next instant, she didn’t…not like this.

Father Quincy began speaking into the black handset.

She stood in the phone booth on quivering knees, half wishing she’d been shot dead back there. Her entire body felt frozen, and her teeth chattered.

He took off his scapular and pulled it over her head.

She tried to grasp the edges of his little brown wool cape, but her arms felt as if they were glued to her sides. I feel really strange.

Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?

Her ankles wobbled, everything dimmed, and she felt herself falling.

From far away, she heard someone saying, I’m calling an ambulance...

~~~

Father Quincy leaned against the phone booth. It felt as if Muhammad Ali were beating the inside of his head.

He could see Laura was in far worse shape than he was. She lay on the cold pavement, losing a frightening amount of blood. It streaked her pale legs, which looked as if they belonged to a corpse, not the glowing young bride-to-be he’d met for the first time that night. He wished he had something to put over her…to keep her warm and give her some measure of dignity.

She mumbled something, and he leaned close to listen. What did you say?

Don’t leave me alone. Her breath came in little puffs against his ear.

As a boy growing up in Cleveland’s Little Italy, he had seen a lot of violence. But nothing had ever disturbed him as deeply as this. Never. You can count on that. He tucked a wisp of her brown hair behind her ear.

Fear shimmered in her wide, brown eyes. Am I dying?

He looked away for a moment. If he were a betting man, he’d say her odds weren’t good. But he preferred the power of prayer to the luck of roulette. You’re going to be fine. I’ll pray for you.

He usually found great peace through prayer when others were suffering. But not tonight. He should never have allowed her to walk with Gino, especially since he’d heard Sonny and Four-Eyed Frankie arguing outside the church before the rehearsal. Calling a cab and riding to her apartment with her would have been the right thing to do. He vowed to do whatever it took to make up for his inexcusable lack of wisdom.

In the distance, an ambulance wailed. A crowd began to gather and stare at Laura as the blustering wind whipped his robe around his ankles.

He knelt close to her and prayed, Dear Jesus, Divine Physician and Healer… He had prayed this hundreds of times, but now he couldn’t remember the words. …Dear God, we… In the end, he fell silent and pressed his palms together with his head bowed. At least his posture kept the crowd from asking questions, for which he didn’t want to have to make up too many answers.

Chapter 2

November 26, 1966

Teddy Osgood had been standing in the hall leading to the sanctuary of St. Peter in Chains Cathedral for hours with Sonny Coletta, like school boys waiting for the bell to ring. Every few seconds, the groom checked his watch again. Teddy glanced at his own watch. I can’t imagine what’s keeping her.

Gino appeared in his tux. Aunt Rita hasn’t seen her since last night at the rehearsal.

Sonny paced up and down the hall. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.

Relax! Teddy grabbed him by the elbow and stopped his pacing. She’s probably just having trouble buttoning up her dress or something.

He yanked his arm from Teddy’s grasp. She’s never late. In fact, she’s usually early, no matter where she’s going.

It was time for some levity, or Teddy felt like they might all explode. That’s what I used to think about Rita before we got married. You wouldn’t believe how much time your sister spends in the bathroom. The church bells began pealing, and he looked at his watch again. 2:15. He frowned, wondering what could be keeping Laura. She was forty-fiveminutes late for her own wedding.

Sonny swore and punched a nearby wall.

Teddy walked over to Uncle Bunny, who sat in a wing back chair, smoking a cigar. He asked the portly old man, Didn’t your wife get to your wedding a couple hours late?

Uncle Bunny nodded. That’s right. She got caught in a rain storm on the way to the church and decided to go back to the beauty parlor. He took a puff of his cigar. Sonny, she’ll be here. Now sit down, or you’ll get all sweaty.

Sonny plopped onto an upholstered bench. The entire family is out there! Everyone from the neighborhood and important people from the Cleveland syndicate. They’re all just sitting out there. He leaped to his feet and began pacing again.

Teddy tried to soothe his friend. They’re probably talking about Christmas shopping.

Sonny glowered at him. No, they’re probably talking about why the wedding isn’t starting. He swore and kicked over the upholstered bench.

He couldn’t let Sonny get so worked up. As the best man, he was supposed to take care of problems. Take it easy! He righted the bench.

Sonny tore off his tuxedo jacket and threw it on the floor. Nobody keeps important business associates like Walt Friedlander and Dr. Oliver waiting.

Teddy picked up the jacket and hung it carefully over the back of a nearby chair. Business people? Is that all you can think about? Aren’t you the least bit worried that something might have happened to Laura?

Sonny clenched his fists. Showing up late is disrespectful to them and me.

Teddy stared at him for a moment and then walked to the opposite end of the hallway. He and Sonny had been friends all through medical school, but this was a side of him he’d never seen.

After fidgeting for another half hour, with no sign of Laura, Sonny stood. To hell with this!

Teddy jumped up from his seat. What are you going to do?

Sonny yanked on his jacket. Save face.

Without a bride, there wasn’t much point in waiting with Sonny any longer. You want me to say something to the guests?

That’ll make me look weak. Sonny straightened his bow tie and shoved open the door leading to the sanctuary.

Teddy hurried after him, hoping the groom didn’t make a fool of himself or start throwing punches at somebody.

When they stepped up in front of the altar, the organist began playing the processional. The guests settled themselves in the creaking pews and smiled at the groom.

Teddy hurried over to the organ and whispered to the organist, The wedding’s off. You can stop playing.

The startled organist ended the tune abruptly and knocked a hymnal onto the pedals. The organ blared until he snatched up the errant book.

Sonny announced to the guests remaining in the sanctuary, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve discovered some disturbing things about the bride, and I’ve decided to call off the wedding. Thank you for coming. Your gifts will be returned.

A sympathetic murmur rose from the crowd.

Teddy hurried over and whispered in his ear, What about the reception?

You tell them. Sonny squared his shoulders and strode down the aisle.

Teddy went to the microphone and tapped on it. The noise caused everyone to look up. Please, go to the reception and enjoy your meal. He hurried after Sonny as the crowd stood to put on their coats.

As they made their way down the aisle towards the double doors, Four-Eyed Frankie stepped in front of Sonny. The awkward behemoth stood there, unmoving, with his shirt tail half tucked in. He asked a man who stood nearby, Don’t it make you wonder why she ain’t here?

Teddy felt like smashing the cross-eyed toad in the face.

Sonny balled up his fists and lunged at the rude guest.

Teddy grabbed Sonny’s elbows. Not in church!

Sonny’s chest was heaving, and his breath was coming fast. He glared at Four-Eyed Frankie. Get out of my way.

The goon wearing white socks with his dark suit folded his arms over his massive chest. Maybe I’ll ask her to marry me.

Teddy let go of Sonny’s arms and put up his own fists. Shut up!

Sonny put a hand on Teddy’s chest. I’ll deal with this.

Teddy stepped back, wondering how they were going to avoid a brawl.

Sonny stuck his face in Four-Eyed Frankie’s. I’m assuming you can see me now. If you’re deaf, too, read my lips. Move!

Four-Eyed Frankie stayed where he was, like a hulking bull standing his ground against a skinny little cape-waving matador. I bet she found out what kinda man you really are.

Sonny said through clenched teeth, Get out of my way, or I swear, I’ll cut out your eyes and make you eat them.

Several older women nearby gasped.

Teddy groaned. Come on, Sonny, that’s enough!

With a smug smile, Four-Eyed Frankie stepped aside. He said to Sonny, Someday, you’re gonna eat those words, and I’m gonna be there to watch.

Sonny gave the homely toad a shove on his way out the door.

Teddy hurried down the wide steps after Sonny. Where’re you going?

Home.

He shouldn’t be left alone at a time like this. I’ll go with you.

Suit yourself.

In the back of the limo Teddy had hired to take the bride and groom to the airport, Sonny tore off his bow tie and flung it on the floor.

Where to? the driver asked.

Sonny said, Back home.

You forget the license?

No, I lost the bride.

She left you standing at the altar?

Teddy leaned forward and said to the driver, Get going!

Pulling out his pocket square, Sonny mopped the sweat from the back of his neck. I’m going to search to the ends of the earth if I have to for Laura.

Teddy fretted something had happened to her. I’m worried about her.

Sonny looked out the window. And when I find her, I’m going to make damned sure she never embarrasses me like this again.

~~~

U.S. Marshal Geraldine Jackson, the only colored deputy on the force in Cincinnati, stood in the family room of the Stone’s home, watching 7-year-old Moon talk to her dolls. Her mother didn’t have to testify in the Friedlander case that day, so she and Mr. Stone had gone Christmas shopping. Down the hall, the baby was taking a nap. The nanny had gone to the grocery to buy baby formula.

She sighed, afraid she might fall asleep standing up, if that were possible. But like all first-year deputies, she had to pay her dues to get better assignments.

Shattering glass brought Geraldine to full attention. Moon looked up, her eyes wide with fear.

Geraldine lunged to set Moon in a closet. Wait here, she whispered.

With gun drawn, she slipped towards the front door. She heard a car roaring away and glanced out the window. The car was gone, and in the snow-covered shrubs, her partner lay face-down.

When she got to the baby’s room, an explosion knocked her off her feet.

Fire roared through the room, making it impossible for her to get to the boy.

Grabbing Moon, she raced to her cruiser to call for back-up.

She watched helplessly as firemen extinguished the blaze. When the coroner carried out the tiny body bag, she could barely contain the guilt she was feeling. All night, she chided herself for moving too slowly, for failing to hear anything outside, and for missing the opportunities to save the baby and identify the car. She promised she’d make up for this, if it were ever possible.

Chapter 3

Laura awoke sometime later, unsure of where she was. A flickering fluorescent bulb bathed the room in cool blue light, and a clock ticked nearby. A familiar scent filled her nose. Was it betadine? Glancing at her right arm, she noticed plaster encasing it from her fingers to her armpit. Sonny? Her throat burned, and she swallowed with difficulty.

Around the edges of the door, bright light streamed into the room.

Hello?

A nurse appeared. Can I help you?

Laura knew she was in a hospital, but why was she in the bed, instead of helping patients? Where am I?

University Hospital.

She remembered she was getting married on Saturday at one-thirty.

What day is it?

Saturday.

Afraid she might arrive at the church late, she asked, What time is it?

About 5:30.

She breathed a sigh of relief. There was still plenty of time to do her hair, nails, and makeup. I’ve got to go. I’m getting married at one-thirty.

One-thirty done come and gone, honey. You ain’t goin’ nowhere today.

She tried to move, but intense pain shot through her