Troubled Waters: I Never Came This Way Before

By Kathryn White

Meagan Stevens and her sister Chris, are brought up with good Christian morals. Mark DeFore is the son of a minister and the father of one. They are brought together by fate, and their adultress affair that follows goes against all their beliefs. Mark's wife Karla, struggles with alcohol; their family is torn apart. Megan's ex-husband Robert, a handsome popular sportscaster struggles with a very darkside. Megan seeks comfort with her friends and especially with Greg an artist whom she meets in Paris. She seeks his advise, however, their meeting and his move to New York, alters his life forever. These families are linked by the lake that drifts by their estates. Evil cuts through the fog, death lies beneath the water. Can the love of Megan and Mark survive? Should it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 12, 2000
• ISBN: 9781469750521

Kathryn White

Kathryn White grew up in the Midlands of England and now lives in Wells with her husband. Inspired by her children and grandchildren, she has written more than thirty children's books, almost all of which feature animals as the main characters.

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All Rights Reserved © 2000 by Kathryn M. White

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press

an imprint of iUniverse.com, Inc.

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Lincoln, NE 68512

www.iuniverse.com

The author wrote a newspaper column "From the Heart" for GOLDEN LIFESTYLES, for three years. She has published several short stories, self-help articles, and poems for several newspapers. She has also compiled and printed a book of poetry "Desire of the Heart Granted."

ISBN: 0-595-14560-4

ISBN: 978-0-5951-4560-7(eBook)

Printed in the United States of America

In loving Memory Of my mother

EDNA MAY BALL

And my father

DILLARD GLEN BALL

And of my dear friend

TRACY CLYMER

"The Family is the Country of the heart. There is an angel in the

Family who, by the mysterious influence of grace, of sweetness, and of love, renders the fulfillment of duties less wearisome, sorrows less bitter. The only pure joys unmixed with sadness which it is given to man to taste upon earth are, thanks to this angel, the joys of the Family."

Giuseppe Mazzini (1805-72)

Contents

EPIGRAPH

EPIGRAPH (CONTINUED)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

EPILOGUE

AFTERWORD

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

EPIGRAPH  

The Family is the Country of the heart. There is an angel in the Family who, by the mysterious influence of grace, of sweetness, and of love, renders the fulfillment of duties less wearisome, sorrows less bitter. The only pure joys unmixed with sadness which it is given to man to taste upon earth are, thanks to this angel, the joys of the Family.

Giuseppe Mazzini (1805–72) Italian nationalist leader. The Duties of Man, ch. 6 (1844–58; tr. 1907)

There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world’s sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example.

Aldous Huxley (1894–1963),

British author. Point Counter Point, ch. 13 (1928).

"Destiny is an absolutely definite and inexorable ruler. Physical ability and moral determination count for nothing. It is impossible to perform the simplest act when the gods say ‘No.’ I have no idea how they bring pressure to bear on such occasions; I only know that it is irresistible."

Aleister Crowley (1875—1947),

British occultist. The Confessions of Aleister Crowley, ch. 48 (1929rev. 1970).

"You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness

consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life."

Albert Camus (1913—60)

French-Algerian philosopher, author. The fool, in Intuitions.

(Written Oct. 1932; published in Youthful Writings, 1976).

EPIGRAPH (CONTINUED)  

One must not forget that recovery is brought about not by the physician, but by the sick man himself. He heals himself, by his own power, exactly as he walks by means of his own power, or eats, or thinks, breathes or sleeps.

Georg Groddeck (1866—1934),

German psychoanalyst. The Book of the It, Letter 32 (1923).

"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in

murder."

Octave Mirbeau (1850—1917)

French journalist, author The Torture Garden, The Manuscript

(1899).

O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! That we should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into beasts!

William Shakespeare,

English dramatist, poet. Cassio, in Othello, act 2, sc. 3.

"Had we never lov’d sae kindly, Had we never lov’d sae blindly, Never

met—or never parted—We had ne’er been broken, hearted." Robert Burns (1759—96), Scottish poet. Ae Fond Kiss.

Hope is the thing with feathers—That perches in the soul—And

sings the tunes without the words—And never stops—at all—." Emily Dickinson (1830–86), U.S. poet. The Complete Poems, no. 254 (1955).

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS  

First, I thank God for granting me the desires of my heart.

Furthermore, none of this would have been possible were it not for my beloved husband, Glenn. His patience goes beyond measure. His love sustains me and lifts me up. He is a wonderful ‘listener’ and my best critic.

I want to acknowledge my children, Tom, Susan, Steve, and Sandie, for believing in me and telling me that I should Go for it.

My grandchildren, Ashley, Leah, and Gavin; their pride in me makes me want to dig a little deeper.

Finally, to all of my friends who were forever faithful in showing their interest and excitement for my work; I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

INTRODUCTION  

Where it all began

There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world’s sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example.

Aldous Huxley (1894-1963)

A cold, wet, fall afternoon, in New York City—

I will never get married again! Meg said through clenched teeth. She had just left the courthouse; the divorce was final, and she was still trembling from the ordeal.

Thank God, its over, she mumbled walking around the car; if I never see another man again it will suit me fine." It had been a grueling experience but being able to sign the final papers today made it all worth her while. Robert Alan Masters III had left a bitter taste in her mouth and she doubted if she would ever have him out of her life. She was smart enough to know that the divorce papers were only that, a piece of paper.

She placed her hand on the car door; with a sick feeling she realized her keys were locked inside, and it had started to rain. Her long naturally blonde hair twisted on top of her head was beginning to droop. She was glad that she had dressed for the fall weather in New York City. She pulled her navy blazer together around an almost perfect figure, thankful that her wool slacks protected her legs from the stinging cold rain.

The parking lot of the courthouse faced Main Street, but the evening rush traffic offered no solution to her dilemma. It was bumper to bumper and not one taxi driver would look her way.

Meg kicked the tires on the car, banged her fist on the hood, and wished she had someone else to blame for her predicament. She was use to being in control, however, the divorce had whipped her to her knees and now this. She was glad that the raindrops camouflaged the tears.

Before she had time to consider her options, she noticed a black Lexus pulling into the parking lot, a man got out and was walking toward her. She gave him the once over and decided that he looked harmless enough. Having worked for the Law firm of Carlton, Carlton, and Jones, for the past ten years, she was always aware of her surroundings and who or what had invaded her space.

The man was of average build, dark hair, with a little gray. His appearance was that of an executive; everything about him made a statement of professionalism. He must be a native New Yorker she thought, noting that he locked his car door. Meg quickly regained her composure, putting on her best ‘I can handle this, face.’

Must be fate,he grinned, hi my name is Mark.Looks like you need a little help. He didn’t have the foggiest idea what he was doing here but as soon as he pulled into the lot to turn around, he saw her. His first impression was that she looked like pure class.

I’ve locked my keys in the car. I’ve never done this before. She wanted him to know that this was a one-time thing; she certainly was not a dumb blonde.

Meg stepped aside and wondered why her heart was beating so fast. He was not the tall, dark, and handsome, type. He had on a business suit, nice tie, and his shoes were shined. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. However, for some crazy reason it was as if she had known him forever. She felt her cheeks flush. She could smell his cologne as he bent to peer in the window of her Mercedes.

You don’t have to bother, she yelled above the sound of a truck going by, no need for you to get wet.I’ll call a Locksmith.Really, thanks anyway.

I’ll try to open it on one condition, he smiled pointing to a coffee shop, have a cup of coffee with me until the rain lets up.

It was foolish to stand in the rain discussing the situation so she just shook her head yes, and they ran to the coffee shop. He took her elbow guiding her to a small table in the corner. The yellow checkered cloth and candles were warm an inviting.

Two coffees, please, he said to the waiter who immediately showed up at their table, you did want coffee? I’m sorry, I should have asked.

Yes, yes, coffee sounds fine, Meg replied patting her hair in place.

I think I’ll remove my jacket, she said undoing the buttons, it feels too damp. Mark was quick to come to her aid and help her out of it; she liked that. He placed the jacket on the back of her chair; they were both aware of her cashmere sweater clinging to her small rounded breast. He avoided her breast, looked into her eyes, and thought, what a beautiful shade of blue they were. Her makeup, a little moist from the rain, was flawless. The moisture only enhanced her creamy complexion.

Meg didn’t miss his obvious examination and approval; she was just as sure that her observance of him was noted. They both looked away. She was still painfully aware of a silly feeling she was experiencing toward a person that she had only met moments before. She felt giddy and reckless; she hoped that he could not tell. Besides, as of today, with the strain of the divorce, the last thing she wanted was another man. For a fleeting moment, she was reminded how Robert had seduced her from the very beginning.

Their eyes met again…

I think you have the right idea, Mark said removing his suit coat and placing it on the back of his chair to dry. His white shirt was impeccable with his initials monogrammed on the pocket. There was an air of efficiency about him. This fascinated her very much. He looked solid and she guessed that he was about forty-five years old.

Do you mind? he asked loosening his silk tie.

No, by all means be comfortable, Meg answered taking a sip of the hot coffee. She was thinking, I bet he works out, probably a runner. Her second thought was, those blue eyes and black hair are a dazzling combination.

Music played softly in the background. She recognized the song; ‘First time ever I saw your face.’ How appropriate, she thought. She had the oddest feeling that he was having the same thoughts about the song.

They began by exchanging a few words of introduction; they felt comfortable and relaxed.

I’m Mark DeFore, he smiled extending his hand.

Meg Masters, she smiled placing her well-manicured hand in his. Meg noticed that although his hands were not large, he had a firm grip. Mark taking her right hand, and quickly glancing at the left one, noticed she did not have on a wedding band. However, there was a definite line where one had been. She had already noticed that he wasn’t wearing a ring.

The candle burnt low, the cups were refilled, and still the conversation flowed. The rains picked up in intensity and beat against the window. Steam from their coffee fogged the pane. Still visible were the hundreds of little rivers careening to nowhere.

They sat for hours laughing and sharing. They ordered a sandwich. Both had roast beef on rye with Swiss cheese and a glass of tea. People came and went; the waiters changed but they hardly noticed. They spoke of likes and dislikes, of travels, of their youth. Time seemed meaningless. Was it standing still or speeding like Haley’s Comet through space? Minuets slipped into hours and daylight slipped out of sight.

I must tell you, Mark said, I never come this way, and were it not for a strange nudge from inside I would have been on Forty-seventh Street, not Main. When I came to the intersection, I just felt a strong urge to turn down Main. I was thinking I had lost my mind and was looking for a way out of the traffic and had decided to turn around. I saw you and my conscience would not let me ignore a damsel in distress.

I was suppose to be here yesterday, Meg whispered. It wasn’t her fault; the court clerk just said it had been postponed until today. Their eyes met and lingered. It was as if each were catching a glimpse of the other’s soul. Each was thinking, but not saying aloud, that this seemed like a twist of fate. Why else would they be here at this exact time? They were somewhere they were not supposed to be. Was fate dabbling in their lives?

Mark rested his hand on Meg’s hand; it seemed the natural thing to do. This is crazy they both thought…

Did you remember your keys were in the car while you were in the courthouse? Mark asked breaking the trance. No, not really; I’m afraid my mind was on the business at hand, and not car keys.

And that business was what? If I may ask.

Finalizing a divorce, she stated matter of fact and she searched his face for a reaction. However, there was none. She continued, I was married for a long five years and no children.

She kept waiting for him to comment but he remained silent letting her talk.

I work for a law firm. I have been there for ten years. I am their right arm and then some. I attend college in the evenings; I am working toward my Law degree. She paused giving Mark an opportunity to comment; he said nothing. I am afraid I decided late in my college days that I wanted to be a Lawyer. What about you were you leaving work? What do you do? Meg was embarrassed that the questions she was posing seemed to come in a rush of words.

Yes I was leaving work. I deal in plastics.

The name of the company? she asked, perhaps we have done work for you.

DeFore Plastics, he answered.

DeFore Plastics? she said somewhat surprised, yes, we have drawn up papers for your company on occasion. I remember the paper work. Is the name ‘DeFore’ a coincidence? Or is it someone I have just met? she asked with a smile playing at the corner of her lips, as if she already knew the answer.

No coincidence, he answered feeling uncomfortable, I am the owner and president, but hey, I am still a nice guy. Meg threw her head back and laughed.

Imagine the President of DeFore Plastics trying to unlock my car!

Mark laughed too; each took note that the other had a very nice laugh. Mark noticed that her full lips curled around perfect white teeth.

What law firm are you with? he asked smiling, since you know so much more about me. Meg was usually more cautious, especially after what she had been through with her ex-husband, but she forgot about caution as she sat gazing at this perfect stranger.

I work for the law firm of Carlton, Carlton, & Jones.

Yes, you have drawn up proposals for me. The last was a purchase we made from Germany; it was the first of the year as a matter of fact. Mark smiled at the irony of having done business with Meg’s company. They had something in common. Amazed at this revelation, he said, James Carlton has been our lawyer for a few months.

Meg rested her elbows on the table, lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and leaned forward. How come a nice professional fellow like you doesn’t have a girlfriend waiting at home for your call?

For the first time, in this magical evening, a silence hung too long in the air. Meg sat back in her chair and waited for an answer.

No girlfriend, Meg, he answered tightening his tie back in place. Meg liked that answer but before she could make any reply to his statement he spoke again avoiding her eyes.No girlfriend Meg; I have a wife and two children. I am married.

Hey great, Meg replied with a smile. She did not want her disappointment to show. She was so good at pretending.

Boys, girls or one of each? she responded trying to muster a look of interest on her face.

"My son Jacob, is twenty-two and a senior at American Baptist,it’s a Theilogical Seminary in Nashville, Tennessee. My daughter, Jessica, is twenty and is a sophomore at Macabeads; it’s a small private college."

Mark almost had a pleading look on his face for Meg to understand and accept his family. Their blue eyes were fastened on each other.

Your son, Jacob, he wants to be minister?

He’s not sure, maybe a youth minister; he’s a fine young man. I think he’s trying to find himself.

He’s a long way from home,Meg said folding her napkin, and your wife? Did you mention her name? What about her? Meg hated herself for asking about his wife because she really wanted to just get out of this awkward situation.

Her name is Karla. She is a very nice person. We have been married twenty-three years. She is involved in a lot of civic work and volunteers at various things.

Sounds like a super family but listen, I just thought about my sister having extra keys to my house, my car, and everything. I’ll call her and she can be here in no time. She jumped to her feet pulling on her blazer. Mark was on his feet and by her side to help, but she already had

it on.

Meg I would be more than glad to help you with the car.

That won’t be necessary, really, I can manage. The coffee and chat were very nice and the sandwich hit the spot. I do appreciate your concern and your offer to help. It was a pleasure meeting you, she smiled standing and extending her hand again. Mark took her hand; he did not want to turn it loose, but she pulled away as if she never noticed.

Meg left a twenty-dollar bill on the table and waved as she headed for the ladies room. She was glad that no one was there.

Damn! She said leaning against the wall. She wondered how she could have been such a fool and taken in so quickly with a smile. She knew she was vulnerable and maybe her self-esteem was low but what was she thinking? She remembered she had fallen for Robert in much the same way. Damn! she said again for lack of another word.

Mark stood looking at the money and knew that he had blown it. Maybe if he had told her on the start maybe they could have discussed it. His marriage wasn’t the greatest and he might be at the courthouse one day himself but he could not go into all of that with Meg. How could he have brought up the fact that Karla was an alcoholic; that Jacob went far away to get away from his mother, and that Jessica had become her mother’s caretaker? He was sure he could not have told her all of that and let it intrude on their special time.

He waited in his car for a moment but she did not come out. He knew she was probably waiting for him to leave. She had touched a cord in his body that had not been played in quite a while and he did want to see her again. He had never placed himself in a situation like this before and he knew if Meg had not walked away that he might have been traveling down a different road. He felt a little sick to his stomach when he realized that not once during the five hours spent with Meg, had he thought of Karla. She never entered his mind until Meg asked him if he had a girl friend. That did trigger a moment of guilt, but it could in no way match the empty feeling brought on by the fact that Meg had stepped into his world; now he may never see her again. That feeling was one on unexplainable pain.

Damn! He said gripping the wheel and pulling back out into the traffic going back to Forty-seventh Street.

Maneuvering in and out of the traffic, he was still confused as to why he had turned down Main Street. He consoled himself with the persistent thought that it had to be fate, because he never came this way going home from work before.

***

Meg called her sister Chris but she was not at home. She left a hurried message of what the problem was, but to not worry because she would have it taken care of soon.

Walking back to the parking lot, a part of her wanted to see Mark waiting, an another part hoped that he was not. She could not help thinking that she was right back where she started.

It was now dark but at least it had stopped raining and the traffic, although still heavy, was moving at a faster pace. The thought occurred that it should be easier to hail a cab; she could call a Locksmith from home. As she neared her car she saw Robert sitting in his car watching her. Her eyes were always on the lookout for his silver Lincoln.

She could feel the hair at the nape of her neck beginning to rise. She knew what Robert was capable of and the last thing she wanted at this moment was to have to deal with one of his rages. She stood looking in her purse trying to stall; hoping that he had not realized that she had seen him. To her dismay, she could see him out of the corner of her eye getting out of his car and coming toward her…

I see you’ve locked your keys in your car; I still have a spare but I didn’t want to get in your car without your knowledge. He spoke in the little boy tone that he always used when he wanted his way. Meg wanted to say how dare you looking in my car! You have no right! However, she

felt too drained to get into a shouting match with Robert Alan the third.

Thanks Robert, just give me the key and I will be on my way.

Nice little visit you had in the coffee shop. Anybody I know or is that one of your secret admirers?

Robert just give me the key. This has been a long day and I am not in the mood for this.

Oh, you are not in the mood? Where have I heard that before? You must have been in some kind of a mood to sit in there for five hours! You know I could just leave your ass here. So you better be nice.

Robert don’t threaten me. I am out of your life, and I will get a court order drawn up to keep you away if I have too.

Oh listen to the slut. Because she works for a lawyer she thinks she’s one.

Meg turned to walk away; Robert grabbed her by her arm spinning her around. Don’t you ever walk away from me when I am talking to you Bitch! His face was red and the veins in his neck were standing out.

Robert, please, you are hurting my arm.

And you broke my heart, but what the hell, he said unlocking the car and holding the door open.

Meg sat down in the car. Her legs were trembling like they always did after an encounter with Robert. Give me the key back Robert, she asked holding her hand out. Robert dangled the key over her open palm, spat in it, pocketed the key, and walked back to his car.

Meg wiped her hand on a tissue and waited for him to pull out because whatever direction he went, she knew that she would go the opposite.

Robert paused by his car beneath the streetlight watching her. He was big, over six feet tall and handsome. He was a year younger than her thirty-five years. His boyish good looks were what attracted her to him in the first place. He wore his chestnut brown hair in a stylish crew and his muscles were obvious even under his sport coat. He had charisma and charm but underneath it, lay a violent temper.

Robert pulled out spinning wheels, cutting across traffic, going north. Meg still shaken pulled into the flow of traffic and drove south.

PART I

COLLISION COURSE

Destiny is an absolutely definite and inexorable ruler. Physical ability and moral determination count for nothing. It is impossible to perform the simplest act when the gods say ‘no.’ I have no idea how they bring pressure to bear on such occasions I only know that it is irresistible.

Aleister Crowley

CHAPTER 1

Megan Rose Stevens was born in Utica New York. She was one of two daughters born to Walter and Martha Stevens. She grew up in this town with the population of around 70,000. Utica is a transportation and industrial center in a dairy-farming area. It was an old community settled about 1773, and incorporated in 1832. An old town with good old fashion values.

Her older sister, by two years, Christina Marie, was her friend and confidant. They attended school together taking part in all of the usual activities that two young girls might. Chris was more interested in Home Economics and Glee Club. Meg leaned toward History and Civics.

Their father was a Dean at Utica College of Syracuse, where the sisters would later attend. Their mother worked as a secretary for the editor at the Utica Daily Press where the girls held summer and after school jobs. The paper had the honor of being awarded the Pulitzer Prize in Journalism and though their mother was not the reason for that honor, she was a contributing journalist from time to time.

The Stevens’ name was considered upper class. There was a statue in the City Park of their great-grandfather, Lester B Stevens, to honor him for donating the land, and having it developed in to the park. The girls were reminded often by their parents that they had been handed a good name, and it was up to them to protect it. Megan and Christina were extremely proud of their parents and they took delight in pleasing them.

The sisters had a strict upbringing by the standards set for that day. They were raised in the Christian Church, attended regularly and sang in the choir. Their father was an Elder and their mother taught Sunday school. The sisters were expected to bring home good grades, mind their manners, and dress like ladies. If they did all of that, they were not questioned on their fun time and friends. Their father always said, Until you show your mother and I different we will always trust your judgement. Therefore, they never told on each other for slipping a drink, petting in the back seat at the Drive-in, or doing things that they considered stupid, like occasionally smoking.

Chris was very attractive, a little on the short side, dark hair and eyes, like her mother. She curled her shoulder length hair each morning and never left the house without her lipstick. Inclined to put on weight was her biggest worry.

Megan, on the other hand, took after her dad’s side of the family, tall and slim with a mass of naturally blonde hair and blue eyes. She could eat all of the bread and butter she wished and still kept a figure that made the boys gawk and her dad look away.

Megan excelled in books and she had a knack for organizing. Chris managed to get through school, but all she ever wanted was to get married and have babies. She was able to do just that when she graduated and married Jeffrey Strong, her childhood boyfriend. Jeffrey went to medical school, he and Chris had three babies, and each was living their dream.

Megan was different in many ways. She was very popular. She could have had many relationships and did have a few but none were lasting. Most important were her studies. She continued her schooling, deciding late to major in Law.

The family, including Chris and Jeff, moved to New York City when their parents retired. By this time, Jeff had taken up residency at the local hospital and Megan enrolled in the University of New York.

Their parents were hard workers with a taste of ‘wanderlust’ in their blood. Since there was a trust fund that had been set up by Martha’s great-grandfather Stevens, there was no need for the daily grind.

Walter had always promised Martha that they would someday settle in ‘The Big Apple’ and see all of the shows on Broadway. They could go to museums, the opera, travel and just live the good life.

***

Megan sang the state song ‘I love New York’ while she packed. A move to a city of over seven million was very different than what she was use to; she was excited about the challenge and the change. She danced around the room with joy.

Megan was sure this move was going to turn her life around. In the beginning, it was not in the way that she dreamed.

Her parents purchased a high-rise apartment as close to the city as possible and Megan settled for an apartment nearer to the college. Chris and Jeff and their three, Martha Rose, named for Chris’s mother and sister, and Jeffrey Jr., and the baby, Stacey, lived four blocks away.

Megan felt that Christina had all the qualities that her parents wanted in a daughter. She was never a disappointment; they felt the same about Megan, but Megan was not so sure about herself. She was determined however to live up to the family standards and never tarnish the Stevens’ good name.

A position was already in the works for Megan and that made the decision to move to New York a sure thing. Megan wanted to be a lawyer; thrilled at the opportunity to go to work for friends of the family, James Carlton, and his brother George of the law firm Carlton, Carlton & Jones. They went to school with her father and he put in a good word for her but her academic record spoke for its self. Megan had retained a 4.0 through out college.

The ‘Jones’ of the firm was a much younger man than James and George Carlton. He was their nephew, Randall Jones, and just about Megan’s age. The brothers were the fatherly type and treated her like their daughter. Randall on the other hand was very serious at times. Although Randall found Megan very attractive he never gave her any reason to believe that he had the slightest bit of interest in her other than as an employee. Randall was like a chameleon, he seemed to adapt to whatever surroundings he was in and sometimes she found herself wanting to say, will the real Randall, stand up.

There was the Randall who would work long hours into the night pouring over books trying to come up with the perfect legal blanket to protect his client. He would have his glasses on his nose, red hair all mussed up by running his hand through it, and he resembled a serious professor. Then just when you thought you had his personality pegged he would do something stupid like click his heels together when he won a case; his fist slicing the air with a resounding Yes!

It was never mentioned that there was a possibility that she might become part of the partnership of Carlton, Carlton, & Jones, but that was certainly her intentions. Sometimes she would lie awake at night picturing her name swinging from the shingle out front, Carlton, Carlton, Jones, & Stevens. That vision made the commute into the city worth it all.

Megan continued taking courses in Law at night working toward her degree to become a full-fledged lawyer and working with the firm during the day. Weekends were usually spent with Chris and her family or taking in the sights. She walked through Greenwich Village, explored the museum of Natural History. It made her mouth water to see up close the things she had only read about. She and Chris took a tram to Roosevelt Island and boarded the ferry to Ellis Island. The family enjoyed lunch at the top of the World Trade Center. It was Chris’s idea to ask Meg to join her family at Rockefeller Plaza and spend the afternoon ice-skating. Broadway matinees with her parents were always a treat. There were dates, usually with groups, no one special.

Life was good, but that was before Robert Alan Masters III, came into her life.

CHAPTER 2

Robert Alan Masters III was born in Dayton Ohio, the only child of Stan and Ethyl Masters. He came late in their life. Ethyl was forty-five years old when he was born; and though she and Stan were excited, there were concerns for her health.

Stan was a Shift Foreman at Delco Products, a plant that made parts for automobiles. He made a decent living and they spoiled their son by giving in to his wants and wishes.

They saw their chubby faced baby grow into a handsome young boy but it wasn’t long before they realized that he had a very dark side. They chose to ignore what they were witnesses too, and they hoped that no one else would ever see—few did. Ethyl would hold and rock him; he snuggled in her lap promising to be a good boy. Robert was always sorry. It became a vicious circle; he was good, he was bad, and then he was sorry.

Ethyl gave up her career as schoolteacher, stayed at home, and cared for Robert. She ran behind him picking up the things that he threw and broke during temper tantrums. He would scream until his face was red, threatening to kill them. Ethyl kept anything that might be turned into a weapon out of sight. However, there was one weapon they never gave a thought to.

They were frightened when the family pet, a calico cat, was found smothered beneath a stack of pillows where Robert sat playing. They had doubts that it was an accident when they showed the cat to Robert and he laughed poking it with his finger. His eyes had a vacant stare; then he wanted to be held.

His mother had become very ill. All anyone knew was that it had something to do with a fall that she had down the basement steps. His father came in from work and found her crumpled at the bottom of the