The Pariahs: Jane Doe

By David Larson

"The Pariahs" is an undercover thriller that sees two detectives forced into witness protection after breaking the blue code. Living now as husband and wife, the Pariahs assume their new identities and are set loose in central Illinois. Their investigation takes them to strip clubs, college campuses, diners, a casino, and a river boat. Will two protagonists, with different styles, learn to work and live together?

The case has stumped local police for over a year. A young woman, strangled, left in an alley. Can a couple of detectives from across the country find the trail?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098338343

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© 2020 David Larson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law

ISBN 978-1-09833-833-6 eBook 978-1-09833-834-3

Table of Contents

Late August

Three Months Earlier

Wednesday

Monday, Two Days Earlier

Monday Evening

Tuesday

Tuesday Afternoon

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Saturday Night

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Epilogue

Late August

Four men were in the office of the Chief of Police in Peoria, Illinois. Three sat in chairs with their heads down, knowing what was coming. The Chief, Larry Fohl, was pacing behind his desk, wondering where to start.

"I assume you three know that we have a mayoral election coming this November. I assume you know that my job and my budget comes from the mayor. A mayor who has been good to us. Someone who is known as a law and order mayor. Her opponent believes this police force is lazy, overpaid, over funded, and mostly incompetent. Her opponent plans on using our rate of closing cases to show we get too much money for too few results.

We don’t want her challenger to win as I might be out of a job. Which also means you three will be casualties of a certain to happen, purge.

He pointed toward of the veteran officers. You could be parking cars in the impound lot. He pointed to the next one, And you may be driving a scooter, giving out parking tickets Fohl pointed toward the last one, Your expensive suit should get you pity tips as a men’s room attendant.

Fohl continued, I need to find a way to get cold cases either closed or dumped on other jurisdictions. For example, I have a case here that has been sitting open for a year now. This is the case of a young woman, found dead in an alley. I need for the three of you to tell me what your department has done to solve this murder.

Fohl looked at the vice squad department head first. Peter, you can start.

The silence was awkward before finally being broken. "The case you are referring to involves a young woman, maybe a girl, who was found in an alley close to ‘Prostitute Corner’. The coroner estimates she was in her early 20’s but wasn’t confident on the age. She could have been older or younger.

We believe she was a pro as she recently had sex with six to ten men. There was no sign of rape. The coroner felt she had freely taken on the gang. Maybe not for free but at least willingly. She was wearing an older style dress and nothing else. She didn’t show up in any of our files.

We checked with all the known prostitutes, massage parlors, escort services, any known pimps to get an ID. We checked with hotels, strip clubs, and at the truck stops. And found no one who could identify the girl. No one claimed credit on social media. She wasn’t listed on the websites offering a hookup. We got nowhere. She is a true Jane Doe.

The drug task force leader was pointed at, Ruben, You’re next.

"We thought she might be a crack head who got caught up trying to score some free coke. Many users will trade use of their body for their drug of choice. This girl was almost six feet tall and barely over 100 lbs. She had all the signs of being a user. Yet, the coroner did not find any signs of hard drugs in her system. He found no signs of her being a tweeker. Checking her hair, he found she had used grass a few times, but none recently. We checked with the campus police in the area and none recognized her from the coroner’s photo. We talked to our CI’s and several friendly dealers, with no luck on an ID. There is nothing we saw to make the murder drug related.

The Chief looked at the leader of the major crimes division. Okay Timothy, where is your team on this case.

"We know she was strangled. Markings on her neck were made by something about one inch wide. Being that she was thin and probably weak, her death would have been quick. There was no ID with the body. No distinguishing marks or tattoos were found. There were no personal belongings in the area except the dress she was wearing. Every dumpster and trash can within several blocks was searched.

We ran her prints thru every data base for which we have access and came up with nothing. We ran her photo thru facial recognition software and nothing came back as a match or even close. Her dental records were sent all over the country and again, we got nothing. The DNA we found from semen and pubic hair on the body, did not show up in any data base. Her DNA was not in any data base. Our Jane Doe had no driver’s license, no record of attending any school, and no arrest record.

We got to the point that we went to every college within 30 miles to go thru their student ID’s. We went to high schools in the area, again nothing. We even went to junior high schools and they thought we were joking. They did help look, but again nothing.

A nationwide search of reported missing girls was no help. The artist rendering in the paper brought no response. We thought about putting her photo on a milk carton but the milk carton people refused. They said they would only put young children on the cartons. We ran a program to age her picture backwards to about age six. We hoped that might bring a match. There were two who looked enough like our Jane Doe to research. They were identified so they weren’t our girl.

We went thru other cases where a young woman was strangled and found nothing similar or unsolved. We did find another woman who had been beaten to death with a baseball bat in the county. That woman did not have an arrest on record but the coroner said there was evidence to say she worked as a prostitute. We identified her as, get this, Emma Hooker. That was her real name. She had Emma tattooed on her wrist. We found a picture of her in a local high school yearbook. I am sorry to say that this is also a cold case. But that’s the Sheriff’s problem.

Fohl looked at his department heads and summarized, We have a dead woman, who we cannot identify. We know she was murdered but no one seems to care enough to say she is missing. I can’t afford to put anymore man hours into this case. From what you have said, I can’t expect anything more from your departments. But this Jane Doe is going to come back to haunt us. I do hope that if someone gives your reports a more than a cursory amount of research, it won’t seem like she was just a dead hooker to us. I need to dump this case on some other agency so it doesn’t show up on our books.

Three Months Earlier

The Illinois State Police has 20 divisions throughout the state. Each unit covers several counties with troopers, technical workers, inspectors, and commanders. The Metamora offices were close to the greater Peoria area. The person overseeing this region is Captain August Swanson.

He was in his office with someone who had all the looks of a biker. His guest had long dirty blonde hair with a fu mancho moustache. He wore a t-shirt, blue jeans, a leather vest, and a cap that promoted a brand of motorcycle. His boots were worn and made for use on a bike.

Augie, what am I here for? I can’t be away from the protection detail for very long. I’m away from the detail enough, in the office, shuffling paperwork and making assignments. And now I’m here with you for coffee and doughnuts. And I don’t seem to have either in my hand.

Swanson had been with the US Marshal Service for 20 years. He had risen to the position of Executive of Investigations. He left the service for family reasons and moved to central Illinois. He had taken over command of a regional office.

I lost my two special investigators. They tired of the travel and took city jobs. One in St. Louis and the other in Rockford. My investigators travel from state line to state line. They may go north to Rockford and south to Springfield. This area is almost a third of the state. I’m told that’s too much time away from home, so they leave. I have found two people, who I believe are tough enough to work the area. And more importantly, not leave me hanging.

Ok, what why am I here?

Special Agent Fritz Suggins. Also acting head of local agents. You sir are on the fast track to Chicago. My contacts tell me you should be the next head of Elite Agents, east of the Mississippi. I need for you to pull some strings with the head of WITSEC. You, being the golden boy of the service, and my former pupil, will pull strings for me. A lot of strings. You owe me a big favor.

Blackmail? Augie, that’s beneath you. What are you asking?

I still have enough friends to let me access WITSEC files. I dug up the records of two former detectives, rotting on the vine, under WITSEC protection. I want these two detectives. I know it’s against all protocol for the protected to get back into a former occupation. But between your people, and my people, and these two smart SOB’s, they will be able to stay under the radar. I will say it again, I want these two here, working for me.

You are right, I owe you, my job. You covered my ass when I screwed up that transport detail when I first started. You took the blame when that witness was comprised by my using an unsecure phone. And you’ve never asked for anything before. You always said you were just doing your job. Your job, to protect a rookie, stupid enough to ignore procedure. Give me what you know and I’ll see what the Deputy Director has to say.

Wednesday

Chief of Police, Larry Fohl, looked at the pair sitting in front of his desk. Fohl was a veteran officer and had seen plenty in his years. When he entered a room, it was with a military demeanor. He was upright, stiff, and had a no-nonsense look. His hair was cut short. His uniform looked to be tailored and spotless. The man sitting in front of the desk pictured Fohl making his bed and bouncing a quarter on the blanket. There was no wedding ring. He either wasn’t married or distained jewelry. He was a solid 6-foot-tall and walked with precision. You could tell from his eyes there was no nonsense in his behavior. He was probably in his 60’s but could still out hike any of his team.

Fohl wasn’t sure what to expect today. The woman, who looked to be mid-to late 40’s, had a harden look about her. Her eyes stared straight ahead. Her dish-water blonde hair, draped to her shoulders. When saying Good morning, her voice was slightly raspy. If she was on the radio, she’d be doing a late-night sex chat show. She sounded sexy. The voice didn’t quite match the visual expectations. She was attractive but didn’t exude sexy. She was professional in manner, attitude and appearance.

She wore black jeans and a black top which made her look thinner than she was already. A black jacket finished her somber appearance. She was shorter than expected, but the one-inch heels on her boots got her up to about 5’5". She had a black fedora in her lap to give the appearance of more height when worn. Her eyes gave away a hardness that only comes from conflict. Her appearance was one that said she was ready to work. He didn’t see any playfulness in her eyes. She wore little make-up and really didn’t need any. He checked her hands and saw they weren’t manicured. He imagined she wouldn’t be into what could be considered frivolous.

The office art work was all oriented toward the military and police. Fohl started the conversation, pointing to the wall, Yes, these photos were taken with a couple army generals and our last governor. If you look at this photo you’ll see I am accepting a purple heart. He wondered where Fohl had served and thought he was bit too proud of himself. Could they have crossed paths at some time? The man studied Fohl and the room a bit more. Everything was neat and in place. He stifled the urge to stand and salute.

When he stood to shake hands, you saw two alpha males, each with a power shake. They were obviously testing each other. Neither one was willing to back down from the shake. It seemed like a minute with neither budging. Finally the woman put her hand on top of the two that were in a power gripe.

The woman said, Boys, put away your tape measure. We are here to do a job. Chief, we certainly respect your authority and your jurisdiction. I want to make sure we have your respect in return. However, you were certainly told that we have the authority to take control of any project in your precinct, if needed. And I understand this case has been given to the State Police due to a jurisdiction issue. So we need to be brought up to speed and this manly show of egos won’t get the job completed. The two men let loose. Fohl looked shocked that a woman, less than one third the size of the two men, had put both in their place.

The man had playful eyes but showed signs of battle. He was just over 6’2", probably about 220 lbs. slightly overweight but still solidly built. His brown hair had wisps of gray and hadn’t been cut in a while. His three-day growth of beard was just about all gray. Fohl noticed the broken nose and several small scars courtesy of fights. He wondered how this man did in those battles.

The man’s dress was professional but casual. He wore tan khakis and a dress shirt that still had creases as if it just came out the wrapper. He wore a tweed blazer that didn’t seem like something the man would wear. He was rugged looking and the blazer was a bit pedestrian. Fohl wondered if he had just purchased his clothes. Only the cowboy boots looked to match the man, they were worn and needed a shine.

Fohl guessed he might in his early 50’s. This was someone who looked more interested in results than appearance. Like the woman, he had a hardness showing in his eyes. Fohl wondered what these two had been through. The Chief also detected an air mischief in this man. Cowboy boots and tweed blazer didn’t match up. Fohl detected a smell that seemed out of place. He thought the man smelled like baby powder. The man and woman seemed like an odd pair.

Fohl sat at his desk. It was large, showing who was in charge. There was nothing to indicate he had work to do. No in-box, no stacks of paper. Just a blotter, clock, and phone. He must have underlings to handle the day to day. His chair made sure he was sitting a couple inches higher than his guests. It reclined while the guest chairs had straight backs.

Fohl spoke up, "Captain Swanson says you are two of the finest detectives he’s ever come across. I’ve known him for several years and trust what he says. However, I’ve never had a male/female team like you two, work with me before, so this will be interesting. I’m not aware of anything you’ve done in the past. I only have a little information on your work history. I tried to get your work history, while you were with the FBI, but your records are sealed. I was just told that I should trust you two.

Little lady, you do have a way to cut to the heart of the matter. I know you are here to help and I plan on helping you. I’m looking forward to see what you can do. I hope you don’t have any personal issues that will get in the way of the job. Do either of you have some military background?"

The man nodded but didn’t say anything. Fohl didn’t press, understanding some service was not to be, or easily discussed.

Fohl reached in his desk and pulled out a thick folder. He handed each of them a coroner’s photo. A girl, maybe in her early 20’s, or younger, was seen in a head shot. There was also full body photo of the girl on the autopsy table. The black and white photos showed a girl with pale skin. It’s possible the photo washed out some of her skin tone. Her hair looked to be light in color and plentiful. The woman wondered if she was pale because of death or did she avoid the sun.

You get a tough case. I’m not sure how we worked the case first, one that should have belonged to you folks. But, I can give you everything we have or rather don’t have. So you get to work a one-year old cold case. Meet our Jane Doe. My guys worked for about 10 months and found little, actually nothing. My guess is they didn’t care too much about a dead hooker with no ID. But I need this closed. It’s going to be used in a political dog fight. So, here’s what you’ve got to start with. It’s my understanding you can handle tough cases. He got no response.

Fohl went on, A young woman, possibly in her early to mid-twenties, was found strangled in an area known to be frequented by prostitutes. We didn’t know at the time that you folks had a task force already, relating to truck stop sex crimes. Hence, this should have gone to you folks. The victim had no identification, money, panties, or shoes. She had on a dress that JC Penny’s discontinued several years earlier. She had no tattoos or distinguishing scars. Her feet showed signs that she wasn’t used to wearing shoes. Her nails looked broken or chewed on. She had not had a pedicure.

Frustrated, Fohl continued, We hit on nothing but dead ends, that’s why you are here. Let me show you to the room you will be using while working with us and I’ll go more into our investigation. They all stood and the detectives followed Fohl. As they were walking, a quaking was heard. The woman reached behind and tried to slap her partner. Fohl wondered if he actually heard a quack.

The two detectives wondered what they had gotten themselves into. Both professionally and personally.

Monday, Two Days Earlier

A man and a woman were each driven to a complex of buildings in Metamora. Metamora is just northeast of Peoria, in the heart of the state. A few miles to the east is where the ‘Mother Road, Route 66’ rolls thru central Illinois .The village is home for one of the regional offices of the Illinois State Police. There are several towns that make up the greater Peoria area. It was late on an early September day, the weather was a mild 70 degrees.

The building was part of a sprawling group of offices and garages. Dozens of cruisers filled the parking lots. The pair was ushered into the office of Captain August Swanson. They sat quietly, sizing each other up while trying not to stare. They barely nodded an acknowledgement of the other.

She wore a black business suit and heels. There was a black fedora in her lap. The shoes were polished and probably new. She took pride in her clothes. But he thought they were out of place on her. Of the two, she looked very professional. She looked comfortable wearing a suit but the man thought it was for appearances only. She looked like a woman who didn’t take guff from anyone. She wouldn’t seem to mind getting her hands dirty if needed. He found her attractive, not in a traditional sense of beauty, but one where she exuded confidence as a woman. He wondered if she had a sense of humor or was all business. He found something enticing about her but couldn’t tell why.

He wore an old brown sport coat that didn’t quite fit. He couldn’t button the jacket and it was out of place, covering a denim work shirt. The mismatched clothes, khaki slacks, and boots made her think he might be a maintenance worker. She wondered why she didn’t she see a work cap. He wore a newsboy cap that seemed out of place. He clearly worked with his hands; they were rough with broken nails. He looked as if he lived a rough life. His face showed some damage. His days of being a youthful pretty boy had evolved into a rough and ready working man look. For now, he was someone to ignore, they had to be together for different reasons.

If he was there for a maintenance issue, why was she here? She wondered if he had any other clothes. Her small stature and suit made him wonder if she was here for a secretarial position.

The office was a man’s office. There was no female touch. The photos were of hunting trips or sporting events. There were no plants or art work. The man recognized the name of a Hall of Fame player. There was a hint of smoke from a pipe, sweet, not unpleasant. The desk was one of a man of importance, large and made of expensive mahogany. The chair was leather and looked comfortable. The in-box and out- box showed he handled a lot of work. He had files on every corner of the desk. He clearly did his own work. The office wasn’t one to show who was more valuable.

I hope you had a good weekend without any travel issues, said Swanson as he entered the room and shook hands. I see you are looking at the baseball. Jim Thome, one of baseball’s greatest home run hitters, is from Peoria. I got his autograph at a charity event, just after he was elected to the Hall of Fame. Swanson was around sixty, overweight from too much desk time. He had on his State Police uniform, proudly displaying his gold bars. I trust neither of you have spoken to each other, as per your instructions. And I’m sure you are wondering why you’re here and who is sitting in the next seat".

Swanson continued, You both are in witness protection and are too valuable to be mowing lawns and answering phones. The pair were perplexed and were studying each other.

The Captain went around his desk and sat down. I’ve been looking for a couple investigators like you two for some time. The pair looked at each other with a quizzical look. I want to tell you about my background. I was with the US Marshal Service for twenty years. I left the service to move to this area for family reasons. I’ve been overseeing this region of the State Police now for 15 years. I know how Marshal’s do their job and what makes for good police work. I also know how investigations should be done.

Swanson went on, I realized that I needed good, no make that, dogged detectives. I can’t keep a good one as they tire of the travel that comes with this job. I’m told they are given the choice of keeping the job or the spouse. The pair now realized they were being given a job. One they weren’t supposed to be doing. Neither really looked like a detective.

Her dress didn’t look like someone who was comfortable tracking criminals. But, the look on her face spoke the truth. She was tough and could get mean. He was a bit turned on at the thought of her getting rough. He had the look of a plumber or electrician. But he gave off an underlying sense of trouble and danger. He was someone who worked the old-fashioned way of tackling crime. He would admit to being a dinosaur when it came to technology. His choice of clothes made her laugh to herself. ‘What kind of cop is this?’ she thought.

Swanson went on, You can’t image how much effort was put into finding you, moving you here, all the while protecting you at the same time. I studied case files and court reports on each of you. I realize you’re in witness protection and need to protect that fact. The Marshal Service doesn’t put their protected into occupations that might lead to their discovery. But for you two, everyone is making an exception. We’ve worked out many things that we believe will allow you to do what you do best and stay out of the public eye.

The pair was now surprised at what they had just heard. She started, Am I to understand that WITSEC has such control of our lives that we can moved around, to where ever we are needed? And that we don’t have a say in the matter?

They stared at each other with a new interest. He wondered how tough this small woman was and wanted to find out. She was already for a fight. He could see weariness in her eyes and face. What had she been through? How much strength did she have left?

His appearance made her realize that he was one to confront trouble head-on and wondered how he had fared. His face showed the fights of the past and the inquisitive eyes hinted that he wasn’t someone to give up. He must have come out on top in most his battles. The slight grin on his face said all that she needed to know about him, he could be a handful to work with.

The Captain went on, "I’d like to introduce you two to each other. Joseph David Clayton, this is your new wife. Beth Christine Clayton, meet your new husband. It was decided the best way to protect you both was to make sure you had someone close who would have your back. Those are your new names. There is a marriage certificate on file with the state showing you two are legally married.

The WITSEC people were opposed to you coming here. However, you two are too good to be working dead end jobs. I also can’t imagine you would enjoy another type of job and would find a way to do what you seem to love. I’m convinced that you can protect yourselves and not bring undo attention to each other".

For the first time, the newly named Joe spoke. I take it you we have been assigned to you. And that we are to work together as man and wife and detectives.

Beth asked, Is that what this is about, we are now working for you as detectives? I don’t know this man or if I can trust him. How come we were not given any option to say yes or no?

You do understand that your agreement with WITSEC gives them the authorization to move you if necessary. I agree you should have been told as to what was going to happen, but we didn’t want word to be leaked out. I am under a time constraint and needed to fill vacancies as quickly as possible.

The pair, now known as the Claytons, looked at each, trying to work out what their new lives would be like. Beth didn’t look happy, Joe was bemused.

The Marshal Service has been extremely careful in getting you here. Many things have been in the works to make this possible and to give you a new home. All of your assets have been transferred and transferred and moved thru multiple transactions so you have all of your own money. Your pension funds were paid out and added to your new accounts. You have new state ID’s and social security numbers. You are set for life in your new, old, career.

Beth was still a little shocked, but asked, What’s the job entail?

Swanson explained, My personal investigators mostly work throughout the central part of the state, from the river to the Indiana border. We have investigators in each of the 20 districts throughout the state. They work in counties of their district. But you could be called on to work anywhere within Central Illinois. Your classification would almost be on the level of an FBI agent. You would work with any police force, sheriff’s department, my troopers, district detectives, and any agency that needs help. Many of the small towns and counties don’t have experienced people handling tough cases. There are literally dozens of jurisdictions that might need help. Most likely more. If the case is too tough for the area investigators, they call me and I send help.

Continuing, Swanson added, One week you might be in a town of five thousand working a case of river piracy. The next week you’ll be in a city filling in for detectives who are tied up in court. Then the next day dealing with a pile up on the interstate. One of my people had to be called out to find out who was killing cows on a farm. You go where you are needed. You may be handed murder cases, cold cases, or just plain nuisance cases. Your reputations say you can do it all. But remember, you may work with the others, but answer to me. Any questions?

Joe commented, I guess we don’t have an option, when do we start?

Still unsure, Beth asked if she could think about the job.

The Captain went on, Talk it thru this evening. Get to know your new husband or bride. I have a suite for you two at a downtown hotel. This being a river town, I thought a newly married couple would enjoy the view. The Marshals out front will take you to the hotel where you are registered. The suite is yours thru Friday night. Your new home will be ready for you Saturday morning. Your WITSEC handlers will take you now. Joe grinned but Beth didn’t seem to like the arrangement. She started to say something but was too shocked to speak.

They were handed new wallets which had identification info, a driver’s license, credit cards, and cash. Have a nice dinner at the hotel". Swanson got on the intercom between offices and a man and a woman entered.

These are your new WITSEC contacts. Get to know them during the ride. They will pick you up you in the morning. If you find yourself in a situation that’s uncomfortable, you contact them. They will give you their numbers before they drop you off. Discuss this with each other tonight.

They quietly got into the car with the Marshals, not quite sure what to say. The Marshals didn’t talk until they dropped of the Claytons and said they’d be back in the morning for them.

Monday Evening

They were registered at a medium-priced hotel that has been renovated into more of a boutique inn. The suite overlooked the city and river. Their suite had two bed rooms; their luggage was already in the center room, the sitting area. They each took a bedroom. They ate in dining room at the hotel.

He had a rib-eye steak with all the trimmings while she had a chef’s salad. He felt good about the job and excited to do what he was trained to do. She was still unsure and unsettled. The hotel did make them feel like they were being confined. They talked carefully over dinner without knowing what was next.

Neither was giving up too much personal information, during dinner, this early in the ‘marriage’.

They nervously carried on a conversation. If you keep eating like that, you’ll never get any meat on your bones.

I figured you for a tofu guy, I hope you won’t have a heart attack tonight.

The joking felt a forced, like you’d expect with two people just thrown together. If this had been a first date, it hadn’t gone well. He was afraid of making too big a fool of himself while she seemed turned off by his attempts at humor. Humor didn’t seem to come naturally to her. They each looked at each, trying to decide how to proceed.

Finally Beth said, I guess, for the time being, we are stuck with each other.

Sensing an opening, Joe fired back quickly, That sounds like fun, let’s find something really sticky and make it happen. Beth didn’t look amused.

They were back in the suite when Joe came out of his room wearing a white tee-shirt and plaid boxer shorts. I’m going to the pool, it’s indoors. Mrs. Clayton, do you want to join me? We can hopefully open up a bit to each other. He must not have owned any swim suit or at least brought one.

I don’t have anything to wear at the pool.

Neither do I. He took off the shirt and tossed it to her and walked out the door in his boxers. She noticed the scars from being shot and noticed a jagged scar on his left leg. She realized that he favored that leg slightly when he walked. His upper body was muscular.

Unsure of going to the pool, she ended up stripping down to her panties and put on the shirt. It hung down almost to her knees. The shirt was an XL and she was small so it was baggy but had a pleasant scent. She thought a dip in the pool would be good for appearances and maybe help with the awkwardness they felt. She tied her hair back and went to find the pool.

The pool wasn’t large and being indoors, the room was humid. The water was warm and comfortable. He was sitting in the shallow end, on a step with water up to mid-chest. She sat down next to him and the water came up to her neck. They were alone in the pool and started the small talk. It wasn’t long before they each spilled out more of their story.

Beth tried to joke at first, The water is nice and warm. You didn’t just pee, did you?

Joe stared at her unsure as how to react. She smiled as if to relieve some tension. That was supposed to be a joke.

He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be insulted. It seemed as if she was trying to be friendly. And maybe, she had a sense of humor.

Joe finally responded, I’m so cool that I pee ice cubes, so it wasn’t me. Their attempts at humor was still forced.

After a few uncomfortable laughs, she decided to tell more of her story, I’ve been working as a legal secretary in Pennsylvania. Sitting in on client meetings, stirred an interest again in police work. I wondered about getting a badge once more. But I knew it wasn’t a good idea to do so. I’m a bit afraid of getting back into that life, knowing there are people who would like to find me. He nodded in agreement. Working in a law office made me remember why I didn’t take the exam to pass the bar. My days were spent typing out writ requests, filing things, researching obscure laws, etc. I’d much rather be creating the work for attorney’s than doing their work. Even though I graduated law school, I didn’t take the exam to pass the bar.

She added she had no children or siblings. Her parents were in a retirement home with no idea as to her whereabouts. "I had to grow up quickly. My dad got laid off from an aerospace job. Mom was a