White Shoulders

By Wayne A. Pearson

Cromwell, Ohio, is the setting where a millionaire is trying to take over all of womens professional wrestling, a murder for hire is hatched and a pedophile is on the loose.

Donovan Maxwell, a writer for the Chronicle, and his wife, Lieutenant Rita Maxwell, are both on the case.

There is also a Massachusetts football player, Denny Sullivan, accused of being a father. He denies the accusation, but a paternity test says otherwise. How does this twist end up being a part of this story? Find out in White Shoulders.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503534964

Wayne A. Pearson

Wayne Pearson has been writing since his teen years. Past published works include P.M.S.: The Greed of Power, Money and Sex, his very first novel which he attempted to proofread and edit on his own. Whoops! Pushin’ 40, his second novel, was proofread and edited by Rodney Mangas with better success. Illegal Sweets was proofread and edited by many people. Burning Embers was also proofread and edited by many people. White Shoulders, the follow up to Pushin’ 40, was also proofread by others. Wayne continues to write and improve his work. He even republished the book P.M.S. after it was proofread by others under the title P.M.S. Revised. He currently has many projects in the works.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Wayne A. Pearson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 02/26/2015

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Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Three

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Six

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy-One

Chapter Seventy-Two

Chapter Seventy-Three

Chapter Seventy-Four

Chapter Seventy-Five

Chapter Seventy-Six

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Chapter Eighty

Chapter Eighty-One

Chapter Eighty-Two

Chapter Eighty-Three

Chapter Eighty-Four

Chapter Eighty-Five

Chapter Eighty-Six

Chapter Eighty-Seven

Chapter Eighty-Eight

Chapter Eighty-Nine

Chapter Ninety

Chapter Ninety-One

Chapter Ninety-Two

Chapter Ninety-Three

Chapter Ninety-Four

Chapter Ninety-Five

Chapter Ninety-Six

Chapter Ninety-Seven

Chapter Ninety-Eight

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Chapter One Hundred

Chapter One Hundred-One

Chapter One Hundred-Two

Chapter One Hundred-Three

Chapter One Hundred-Four

Chapter One Hundred-Five

Chapter One Hundred-Six

Chapter One Hundred-Seven

Chapter One Hundred-Eight

Chapter One Hundred-Nine

Chapter One Hundred-Ten

Chapter One Hundred-Eleven

Chapter One Hundred-Twelve

Chapter One Hundred-Thirteen

Chapter One Hundred-Fourteen

Chapter One Hundred-Fifteen

Chapter One Hundred-Sixteen

Chapter One Hundred-Seventeen

Chapter One Hundred-Eighteen

Chapter One Hundred-Nineteen

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-One

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Two

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Three

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Four

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Five

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Six

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Seven

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Eight

Chapter One Hundred-Twenty-Nine

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-One

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Two

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Three

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Four

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Five

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Six

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Seven

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Eight

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Nine

Chapter One Hundred-Forty

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-One

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Two

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Three

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Four

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Five

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Six

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Seven

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Eight

Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Nine

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty-One

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty-Two

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty-Three

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty-Four

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty-Five

Chapter One Hundred-Fifty-Six

Epilogue

Credits

PROLOGUE

July 2002

Thirty-two-year old Fig Basham and three of his younger, college friends were standing in line inside the McCarran International Airport, in Las Vegas, Nevada. After a weekend of ‘gambling’ they were all ready to head home.

It was cool to see Denny Sullivan gambling inside the MGM Grand, Fig said as they waited to go through security to board their plane.

Denny Sullivan, #32, was a quarterback for the [Boston] Colonials.

It sure was, Bill Carmichael, twenty, responded. It was nice of him to give us all autographed pictures too!

After winning the Super Bowl last February, I think the Colonials will do it AGAIN this year, twenty-four year old, Milton Kerwin said, joining the conversation.

Me too, Fig commented. Training camp is going to be starting soon.

Denny looked in great shape, Jacqui Duquette, twenty-five, said.

His ole lady didn’t look so bad either, Bill added.

While everyone was laughing, Jacqui pulled Fig aside and whispered in a nervous voice, Do you really think we can pull this off?

Hoping to reassure his black girlfriend that everything was going according to plan, the taller Fig answered, Sure we can ‘J’. Just remember what Bill and Milton told us and everything will be fine.

He kissed Jacqui and hugged her reassuringly.

Bill Carmichael was first to walk through the metal detector hoping to set the tone for his friends.

Jacqui’s dark arms quickly filled with goose bumps when the metal detector went off. She was breathing deeply because she was afraid that she was going to blow it when it was her turn.

Bill remained calm as the security guard ran a wand over him. It beeped when it neared his pants pockets.

Do you have any thing metal in your pockets? the security guard asked.

After years at his job, he feared that Bill was wearing some kind of penis jewelry.

Oh, I’m sorry, Bill said. That must be my nickels, he volunteered aloud. He reached inside his pants pocket and began producing a plethora of loose nickels. Somewhat relieved, the guard asked, Why so many nickels?

They’re my gambling winnings, Bill lied. My friends and I, gesturing to Milton, Fig and Jacqui, all hit the casinos and played until we won big at all of the nickel slots.

He left out the part that he’d actually picked up the nickels from the bank.

Disinterested in hearing about Bill’s weekend extravaganza, scoring big with nickels, the overworked guard rolled his eyes and waved him on.

Milton went next. Before being wanded he began emptying his pockets of loose nickels in the sight of the security guard.

When he was wanded nothing beeped.

Jacqui went next. Before walking through the metal detector she placed her purse on a conveyer belt to be x-rayed while she walked through.

Unlike the guys, she wasn’t wearing jeans and she had no pockets in the medium, blue skirt that showed off her sexy legs. All of her nickels were inside her purse. She walked through the metal detector without incident. However her purse had set off a detector. She smiled and offered a brief explanation about the gambling as she opened her purse and began producing handfuls of nickels.

She almost panicked when she was asked to empty out ALL of the contents of her purse.

Meanwhile, Fig successfully navigated the metal detector after emptying his pockets of nickels.

All was well it seemed.

Those standing immediately behind the four students walked through the metal detector without incident.

Donovan Maxwell, the head writer for the Cromwell Chronicle, and his lovely wife Rita, a police officer were next.

Since her promotion to Lieutenant, more responsibility had filled her plate. Stress had begun to spill over into her personal and sexual life. Sex between her and Donovan had become jejune at best.

Donovan had accompanied Rita to Las Vegas so she could attend a seminar on the stresses that women in law enforcement face. While he was there, he encountered Cheri Stanton, his ex. She had gone back to her maiden name since their divorce. The fifty-one- year-old wasn’t the beautiful woman he had fallen in love with when he was nine. She had allowed herself to get fat. She had been cordial but wasn’t really interested in playing catch up. She was more interested in the slots.

After the boring seminar was over, Rita and some of the other women attending the seminar had visited a strip club. When she returned to her hotel room she was so horny that she and Donovan tore up the sheets just as they had in the days when they first met. Leaving Las Vegas their marriage was stronger than ever.

They smiled at each other. That special kind of smile. They were both anxious to get back home to their own bed.

When it was their turn to walk through the metal detector Donovan walked through first. The security guard gave him the once over. He was very tall and wore his dark hair longer than most men. Currently it was down to the middle of his back. He looked like a hippie, only cleaner.

The medium height Rita was next. She walked through the metal detector without incident. Regardless, the guard gave her a double take. She had long, shiny, Chestnut hair, cascading over her shoulders. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Strip search was going though his mind like a big flashing neon sign.

_________

First class was the only way to fly, Brock Webster said.

Paige, his wife nodded in agreement.

The Caucasian couple seated on Wickman airlines flight #555 to Cromwell, Ohio, in front of Bill and Milton, had gone to Las Vegas to take a well needed break. Webster Construction had been doing quite well. Brock had been spending too many hours working according to Paige. She insisted that they needed to spend more time together. Thus, the impromptu trip to sin city.

While he fiddled with the seat, trying to get comfortable, Paige sat thinking about their time in Sin City. She had not only had fun with Brock but by coincidence she had run into her old school classmate, Laura Swanson.

Growing up in Dayton, Paige [Balcer] and Laura [Layton] had been the best of friends in school. After graduation, Paige had married Brock and moved the short distance to Cromwell.

Laura too had married. Reggie Swanson had been her childhood sweetheart. They moved to Cincinnati where his uncle had a job waiting on him.

Since graduation, Paige had only seen Laura once for a brief time at their tenth class reunion two years earlier. She felt sad for her after learning that she and Reggie had divorced. Even under her magazine smiles, Paige could tell that Laura was still hurting. She reached over and grabbed Brock’s hand and squeezed it. When he looked at her, she offered him a sweet smile. He returned the smile.

Also seated in first class, Jacqui whispered to Fig, I don’t like the looks of that.

What? asked Fig.

She motioned with her head toward the cockpit as she said quietly, Those two guys. They look Middle Eastern.

Don’t overreact. They just may be caught up in the middle of the whole terrorist thing because of the color of their skin. Being black, you should know what it’s like to be profiled.

Jacqui nodded. She was just nervous because she knew what she and Fig and Milton and Bill had in mind.

They’re probably just fine, Fig said. But we’ll keep an eye on them just in case.

Jacqui smiled feeling better. She leaned over and kissed Fig squarely on the lips.

Looking around Paige just happened to see the bi-racial couple kissing. It made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, despite the fact that Laura’s ex was also a black man.

After they were airborne, Bill looked across the aisle at Fig and Jacqui. He offered them a covert nod. Fig returned the nod.

The four students each dug into their socks, (Jacqui her bra) and took out dull bronze colored, sixties vintage, Rayline Brand Star Trek Tracer Guns which Bill had purchased off of EBAY. After some modifications, he had them ready to work with nickels. As they sat conversing amongst themselves, the four began covertly loading the tracer guns with (twenty) nickels. Despite having metal springs, the plastic guns had easily passed through the metal detectors while the guard was distracted by the large amounts of nickels.

In a whispered voice Jacqui told Fig that she was getting nervous.

Don’t worry. The hard part is over. We got through security.

I know but what if-

‘J’, take it easy. Clair and Darcy have scouted this pilot out for the past couple months while they were running back and forth to Vegas. They said he is more reliable than Old Faithful.

Jacqui smiled.

All we have to do is follow (Bill) and Milton’s plan. When the pilot is ready to take his pee break he has to come out of the cockpit to use the lavatory. The Flight Attendant will put the lunch cart in the way of the cockpit door to keep passengers from wandering in. That’s when we go and prove that airline security is lax.

He knew this thinking out of the box college project could easily get all four of them an A.

Until then we sit and wait.

Okay, Jacqui responded.

Shortly into the flight, a female Flight Attendant began making her rounds offering each passenger a beverage.

After she had passed by the Middle Eastern men, Jacqui noticed that one of them got up and entered the lavatory. She told Fig.

‘J’ you’re over reacting. Everyone has to use the John.

Sorry.

The Flight Attendant was in the process of giving Fig and Jacqui their sodas when Jacqui noticed the Middle Eastern man exiting the lavatory. He wore an unusual smile as he returned to his seat.

Fig noticed. Before Jacqui had a panic attack he whispered to her, He was probably just relieved to drop the kids in the pool. Don’t spaz. It will just bring attention to us. Just be cool. This will all be over sooner than you think and we will have proven that airport security needs to be tightened up. Everyone will thank us ‘J’. We’re going to be heros.

An hour into the flight, Jacqui nudged a dozing Fig on the shoulder, and whispered, There he is.

Fig saw the pilot leaving the cockpit. He checked his watch. Good ‘Old Faithful’ he whispered. He looked across the aisle and nodded to Bill.

Bill looked up from the crossword puzzle he had been working on and nodded back.

It’s time, Fig told Jacqui. Are you ready?

Jacqui nodded as she reached inside her purse for her gun.

The four students were just about to start a mini-mutiny when Middle Eastern man #1 beat them to the punch. He stood up and grabbed the flight attendant and produced a knife. This is a hijacking, he said in broken English.

Paige Webster was the first to panic. She began to scream loud enough for everyone in first class to hear, It’s 9-11 all over again. We’re all going to die.

Others let their fears be known as well. Screams in first class began coming from all the nationalities on board.

Seated in coach, Donovan and Rita also heard shouting of an impending hijacking in broken English from two other Middle Eastern men seated in coach. More screams were heard as well.

Rita wished she had her police issued weapon but it was in her checked baggage.

No sooner had the hijackers made clear their plans, the two Middle Eastern men in first class attempted to move the food cart and make their way into the cockpit.

How did he get a knife on board? Jacqui asked.

I don’t know, Fig answered.

Maybe he had a pocketful of nickels.

Hearing the screaming, the lavatory door flung open. Old Faithful with his pants still partially opened and half falling down, attempted to fire a tasor gun. Before he was able Middle Eastern man #2 jumped him while #1 continued to hold a knife to the Flight Attendant’s throat. Some passengers wanted to help while others were too afraid.

Paige continued to panic out loud.

As the pilot was wrestling with #2, #1 continued to try with his free hand to move the food cart.

It’s time to get some payback for 9-11, Fig said.

What do you mean? Jacqui begged.

We’ll revise our original mission.

How?

We’ve been waiting for Old Faithful to come out and use the lavatory so we could test our theory that the cockpit is still vulnerable after 9-11, right?

Jacqui agreed.

Well, instead of simply proving that airline security is lax, we can save the day and be heros.

How?

Start firing at the guy holding the flight attendant.

With these? Jacqui protested.

Yes.

But we don’t even have real bullets.

Just aim for his free hand and his face, but don’t hit the flight attendant.

But-

‘J’, all we have to do is stun them then get the rest of the people on board to rally around and we’ll all gang up on them.

Fig and Jacqui knew they had nothing to lose? If the hijackers succeeded and got inside the cockpit, they might try to force the plane to land in Cuba.

Alright, let’s do it.

Fig and Jacqui stood and raised their guns. With the modified stronger springs, the guns were able to launch the nickel projectiles fast enough to really sting someone. Fig took the first shot firing a nickel horizontally at #2.

Jacqui fired at #1 as he continued to try and move the food cart. When #1 turned to see what was going on, Jacqui was firing more nickels in his direction. He tried to use the flight attendant as a shield but Jacqui used her expertise and fired at him wherever he had left himself exposed.

A hail of nickels began zeroing in on #1 and #2.

Seeing Fig and Jacqui in action, Bill and Milton made their way back to coach.

Passengers in first class including Paige Webster stopped panicking and began to cheer for Fig and Jacqui. Fig fired faster while Jacqui fired slower but with more precision.

Thanks to Fig and Jacqui, the bad intentions of #1 and #2 had been temporarily abated. Despite being hit repeatedly, and screaming obscenities in foreign languages, the would be highjackers refused to give up.

Out, Fig yelled, as he reached into his pocket for more nickels.

I’ll cover for you, Jacqui said. But hurry, she added.

Hearing that Fig was out of ammunition, Brock Webster decided to be a hero. He quickly left his seat to confront the Middle Eastern men.

Unaware that Brock was attempting to be a hero, Jacqui had just fired as he was entering the aisle.

OUCH! Brock yelled, after being hit in the shoulder.

Get down idiot! Jacqui yelled. She then quickly fired at #2, again, as Brock was hitting the floor. She then fired at #1. She continued to alternate her shots between #1 and #2. Shit. I’m almost out.

Ready, Fig said. He took over, firing his nickels. Five cents. A dime. Fifteen cents. He was up to a quarter’s worth of nickels when Jacqui was reloaded.

In coach, the would be hijackers, were not as courageous as #1 and #2. They were quickly subdued by angry passengers, including Donovan and Rita. Leaving them behind Bill and Milton entered first class. When they saw that Fig and Jacqui still hadn’t subdued their would be hijackers they began assisting them by firing nickels at the knees of #1 and #2.

The pilot finally managed to subdue #1. Both ended up inside the lavatory with only their legs sticking out in the aisle.

Bill and Milton each picked one of #2’s knees and began shooting at him repeatedly.

Fig and Jacqui both worked the upper body of #2.

Feeling more confident now, Jacqui took a precision shot and hit the knuckles of #2’s on the hand in which he held the knife. He cursed and relinquished the knife.

The flight attendant pushed him away and ran down the aisle nearly tripping over Brock. When she was out of the way, Brock looked to Fig and Jacqui and shouted, I’m going in!

He stood and led the way as other passengers joined him and charged forward AMERICAN style!

After #1 and #2 had been subdued, the plane looked like a slot machine had paid off, nearly five dollars in nickels lay on the floor in first class.

Fig Basham and his friends had been hailed as heros by everyone on board.

After all, they had stopped an attempted hijacking.

Plenty of dark sedans and men in suits were sitting on the tarmac at the Kansas City International Airport, in Kansas City, Missouri, when flight #555 made an emergency landing.

The men in suits were members of the Federal Bureau of Investigation ready to take the four, Middle Eastern men into custody.

A plethora of reporters were also on hand.

After the Middle Eastern men were taken into custody, Fig Basham and his friends were next to deplane. All four were wearing smiles. They thought they would be hailed as heros.

They were NOT!

Instead, the four found themselves being arrested and charged with endangering the lives of the other passengers, and interfering with the flight crew, among other charges which ironically INCLUDED, attempted hijacking.

After September eleventh, two-thousand-one, the government planned to make an example of the four.

Reporting locally for Channel 5 News, Anaka Spears had the scoop that ran on the WOLF News Channel.

"In the recent past, we’ve been reporting that fake weapons have been getting past airport screeners-asleep at the switch-or due to unplugged machines.

"Earlier today, on Wickman flight #555 from Nevada’s McCarran International Airport en route to the Dayton International Airport, four Middle Eastern men attempted to hijack the jetliner by using knives.

"We just learned that the police in Las Vegas, arrested Darrel Fink an employee of the McCarran International Airport whose job was to help load the plane with food etc. Today, he also loaded knives on-board flight #555 hiding them inside the coach and first class lavatories.

"The would be hijacking was thwarted by four unnamed enterprising passengers armed with guns firing nickels to stop them.

"After 9-11, we are no longer allowed to take fingernail clippers on-board an airline. Then there was the Richard Reid incident last December where the jerk tried to give himself a hotfoot. After today, I wonder if the five gram Jefferson nickel be added to the ever growing list of items that you can’t take on-board a plane?"

Scene Two

Famed black activist, reverend, attorney, and civil rights leader, Arland DeMayo, well-known throughout Cromwell, Ohio, for his work in helping the people of color, stepped up to offer assistance due in-part because Jacqui Duquette was black.

He told WOLF News:

"All my clients did was to prove that what is being reported in the news daily. If it weren’t for my clients, you [Wickman Airlines] wouldn’t have even realized that your security was lax. My clients did a public service. They didn’t want to hijack the plane, they just wanted to prove that the cockpit was accessible and could be breached. If it hadn’t been for my clients, you would have learned that your security was lax; but ONLY after finding 279 dead bodies, the passengers from Wickman flight #555.

It was YOUR security that allowed plastic guns on a plane in the first place because your security was asleep at the switch. What else have they allowed passengers to take on board planes? How did four KNIVES get on board the flight? Answer, lax security. My clients just helped to point out that airport security needs fixing.

DeMayo set out to make the Wickman Airlines and the Transportation and Safety Administration look stupid. He argued that Wickman Airlines was culpable for allowing one of their own employees who was complicit with four Middle Eastern men to slip four knives on board flight #555. He further argued that his clients had been victims. Due to breech of security, his clients’ lives had been put in jeopardy by the four Middle Eastern men. He filed a lawsuit on their behalf against Wickman Airlines and the TSA. He also encouraged each and every one of the 271 passengers and 8 crew members to file lawsuits against Wickman Airlines in a class action suit. He even volunteered to represent them.

Over time, the Government adamantly refused to admit any guilt on their part, of course, and continued to pursue charges despite the public outcry for better airport security.

Using both the conservative and liberal twenty-four hour cable news channels, WOLF News and LION News respectively, Demayo hammered it home that it was his clients who had saved the day after the four Middle Eastern men attempted to hijack the plane.

Each network trying to outdo the other aired debates on various panel shows on a nightly basis.

The intense scrutiny drew in many newspapers around the country, (mostly liberal) who began to champion the cause of Fig and friends. Those on the internet fought hard on behalf of Fig and friends as well.

All in all, there was a great deal of pressure put on the powers that be in Washington D.C.

Still the Government wouldn’t budge.

Things changed after the Wolf News Channel uncovered that Darrel Fink was an illegal from Iran using a dead man’s identity.

The Government finally concluded that Fig and friends were not hostile and had been doing as they said, simply working on a college paper on airport security. They further concluded that Fig and Jacqui were not the masterminds behind the college project; and therefore, dropped the majority of the charges against them, leaving Bill and Milton as scapegoats.

Someone had to pay!

Fig and Jacqui each received suspended sentences and were placed on probation for five years, in addition to being fined ten thousand dollars a piece for their participation.

The twenty thousand dollars in fines was raised by outside groups in less than twenty-four hours.

CHAPTER ONE

January 2004

Fig Basham entered Meren building. Most of the two-story, red brick buildings in downtown Cromwell, Ohio, dated back at least a hundred years. The ground floors served as store fronts or businesses while the second stories served as apartments for rent.

Fig made his way to Stan Meren’s receptionist and told her he was there for his regular appointment.

After Stan inherited the building, he relocated his psychiatry office on the first floor. He chose not to rent the upper floor as an apartment and used it mainly for storage.

Morning, Dr. Meren, Fig Basham said, as he entered his office.

Morning Fig. So tell me how your week went?

My week went like shit! Fig answered, as he reclined in his chair.

The nickel guns incident on Wickman flight #555 had cost Fig big time. Despite receiving a suspended sentence and being placed on probation he had started seeing Dr. Meren whenever he needed to. Thanks to Arland DeMayo, (via Jacqui’s request) the visits were pro bono.

I mean nothing is any different this week than it was last week or the week before, Fig continued. Almond is growing up right before my eyes and I’m missing it. I only get to see her once a week thanks to Rosie. Damn WHORE!

"Once a week, as I have already told you is better than nothing."

"Right, but it’s almost nothing."

Fig there are some cases where fathers NEVER get to see their children.

Abusing fathers who hit the mothers or the kids. I never abused Rosie. I always treated her very special. And I never hit Almond either.

I know.

Fig was twenty-four when he met Rosie Tavares at the Orange Roof Lodge in 1994 while he was working as the third shift clerk. She was nineteen when she was hired to work as a day clerk. Every morning, when she came in, he was just ending his shift. They talked a bit. They seemed to get along really well. It wasn’t long before they were using room thirteen for a quickie. Later, they moved in together and she became pregnant with Almond. Every thing was great until Fig found out that Rosie had started cheating on him right at the Lodge with Ted, the second-shift clerk. They talked about it, and she assured him that she wouldn’t see Ted anymore. And she didn’t because she had moved on to Jim, but only before moving up the food chain to Todd, the manager. Fig was naive and unaware that Rosie had become the lodge whore behind his back. When he found out, he asked her to move out. He also decided that he couldn’t stay at the Lodge and be humiliated any longer. He took a job at the Magnum Opus Pharmacy. His parents were more than willing to watch Almond whenever necessary.

After going to court, HE got full custody of Almond. (Rosie didn’t even put up a fight). He told her she could visit Almond anytime she wanted. But for some reason, she didn’t seem to want anything to do with daughter. Being the lodge whore seemed to keep her busy.

Things CHANGED dramatically after the plane incident. When Rosie found out that Fig had left Almond with his new girlfriend’s parents. She was furious. Jacqui and her family were black.

According to Fig that was why she initiated the custody battle.

She cited his irresponsibility from the plane incident as grounds for the custody battle. Despite the fact that she hadn’t seen Almond in some time.

"We both know the only reason the courts gave her custody was because she’s a woman, Fig said. I’m Almond’s father and I deserve better! Men always get screwed in custody battles. I can take care of Almond just as well, if not better than Rosie-but because she’s a woman and I’m not I’m just considered second rate. I don’t count because I don’t have a cunt!"

Fig, Dr. Meren said, Rosie had a steady job-

I have a job too, Dr. Meren.

Working at Simms’ Restaurant cleaning after hours.

Yes.

Because the Magnum Opus Pharmacy let you go.

"That wasn’t my fault Dr. Meren. The twenty-four-hour Pills and More Pharmacy chain bought them out. They’re a bunch of tight asses. After the plane incident, they told me they didn’t want me anymore essentially because I made them look bad. On my evaluation, that idiot Deannie Weenie that the arrogant prick said I wasn’t doing a good enough job. That was bullshit. On all my prior evals I always got good scores. Pills and More just wanted to get rid of me."

It seems ironic that Simms’ Restaurant is right next door to Pills and More, Meren said.

I guess so. But my job cleaning is steady, Dr. Meren. And Jacqui is always willing to watch Almond on Wednesday nights when I have to go to work.

It’s sad that you have to work on the one night you have Almond.

Yes I know. We have dinner together and then we visit until she goes to bed. I’m always home before she gets up in the morning and I take her to school. Look Dr. Meren, I love Almond and that is what should count!

I agree that love is important, Fig, but after what happened on 9-11, I’m sure the stunt you pulled on the plane weighed heavily on the decision the court rendered. I suspect that they felt Almond would be better off with her mother because she could provide a better life for her and she had no incidents in her past. I don’t know that your gender played a significant role in the decision.

BULLSHIT! Fig screamed. "If I’d wanted Rosie to get an abortion and she didn’t want to, the courts would have sided with her. But let us split up and all of the sudden as a man I have rights, the right to pay for child support. Rosie doesn’t have to keep a log or receipts to even prove she spends the money on Almond. Dr. Meren, all I really want is to be able to see Almond more. I can’t stand that I can only see her once a week and every other Sunday. It’s not fair!"

Dr. Meren sat pondering in silence. "You know Fig, a lot of time has passed since the plane incident. You haven’t been in any trouble since then so maybe it is time that you try going back to court to fight for joint custody. Since you and Rosie both live in Cromwell, Almond wouldn’t even have to change schools."

You know Dr. Meren, that sounds like a pretty good idea. I think I’ll do it.

Fig, just be advised that this will not be an easy task. This could take a great deal of time. Rosie’s attorney will do anything he or she can to stall and try to wear you down. This could be a very lengthy and costly process.

CHAPTER TWO

Monday February 2nd, 2004

Ban Chaison, writing for the tabloid, the National Orbitor, told his readers:

D’Anna Frostman was born in Miami, Florida, in 1990. Shortly after her birth, both of her parents were killed in a car wreck leaving her to be an orphan. At that time Dorothy Caldwell, her maternal Grandmother and only other living relative, took her in. After her death in 1996, Frostman was placed into foster care. Already a troubled child, she went from family to family. After being sexually abused in the last home she was placed she ran away.

According to our research, D’Anna was never reported missing. Sadly, this allowed her to end up getting lost in the cracks of the system while her foster family continued to receive compensation checks from the state of Florida. This foster family is now under investigation by Florida officials. Ironically, Florida officials are also being investigated.

After running away at age twelve, D’Anna accepted rides to anywhere with no place special to go, just the thought of escaping Miami and yet another foster home of sexual abuse.

Last August, after two years of surviving on the streets and working as a prostitute, fourteen-year-old Frostman ended up in Buffalo, New York.

The story picks up just days before last Christmas, when Frostman wandered into the Second Baptist Church of Buffalo. She was cold, hungry, dirty, and THREE MONTHS PREGNANT.

She didn’t know it at the time but her luck was about to change.

Arthur Kopis and his wife Samantha, members of the Second Baptist Church, and Foster parents, took pity on Frostman and took her in.

Following up, he wrote of the interview he conducted with D’Anna.

The last time we spoke, over Christmas, you said you didn’t know the name of your baby’s father.

That’s right, D’Anna Frostman told Ban.

You didn’t seem to want to talk about it at the time.

I was going through a very hard time, the tall, athletic FOURTEEN year old responded.

When you called me earlier today, you told me you wanted to give me an exclusive, and reveal his name. And that he was a famous person.

That’s right.

Okay D’Anna, don’t keep us waiting any longer, who is this famous father?

He’s the quarterback for the [Boston] Colonials. #32, D’Anna said in a muted voice.

I beg your pardon, Ban said dropping his pen. He seemed shocked. Nearly speechless. You’re not saying that DENNY SULLIVAN is the father of your unborn baby, are you?

Yes.

Does he know?

No. I’m afraid that I didn’t even remember his name until I saw him playing in the Super Bowl yesterday.

We aren’t here looking for money from Mr. Sullivan, Mrs. Kopis interjected. But little Susan has a right to know who her father is, and Mr. Sullivan has a right to know that he has a daughter on the way. All we’re asking is that Mr. Sullivan voluntarily submit to a paternity test after Susan is born.

Ban was still flabbergasted. I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Can you tell me how you met Denny Sullivan?

"I was at the Arlington Arms Hotel last September 6th, [2003], the night before the game between the Colonials and the [Buffalo] Spirits was to be played.

I was at the hotel lobby trying to sell myself as a prostitute so I could have money to eat. I was wearing a blouse that was low-cut, showing some cleavage. Denny walked by and saw me crying after an older girl had slapped me and told me to get lost because it was her territory. After our eyes met, Denny approached me. He offered me a hundred dollars to have intercourse with him. I agreed. He told me what room he was in and told me to meet him there.

Not to be indelicate, Ban said, but; if you were working as a prostitute, how you can be SURE that Denny Sullivan is the father of your baby and not someone else?

D’Anna looked toward her step mother. Mrs. Kopis nodded in the affirmative. "Well, this is a little bit embarrassing, but Denny was the only one that I’d had intercourse with. After I was raped when I was in foster care, I never had vaginal sex with anyone. I always performed fellatio for money. But Denny was different. He wanted vaginal sex. The condom he had must have had a hole in it because not long after we had sex I started missing my period."

Denny Sullivan had become the National Orbitor’s most recent source of income … until a bigger named celebrity faltered.

________

Despite all of the rumors of twenty-nine-year-old Denny Sullivan’s alleged cavorting in the past, the sports world was shocked after fourteen-year-old D’Anna Frostman accused him of being the father of her unborn baby, reported sports commentator Gloria Piehl for the All Sports Cable Channel.

Moments ago I spoke with Sullivan. He was quick to deny the accusation. He added that he had NEVER met Frostman!

Lying kids these days.

CHAPTER THREE

A cab drove through the cold streets of Buffalo, N.Y. Plows had already cleared the recent snow earlier that morning. The cab stopped in front of the Strawsball, Lance, and Weckman law firm.

A tall, clean-shaven, hulking white man stepped out. He paid the fare and walked on the shoveled walkway to the entrance. Entering the law firm, he stopped at the reception desk.

Can I help you? asked the receptionist.

I’m Denny Sullivan. I have an appointment with Torrie Weckman.

Oh, Mr. Sullivan, nice to meet you. I’m Shauna Green, the young, black girl said, extending her hand.

They shook.

Ms. Weckman is expecting you. Let me buzz her.

Denny removed his coat and hung it on a rack inside the reception area.

Seconds later, Shauna led Denny inside a luxurious office, the walls covered in expensive paintings.

With his current situation, he assumed that he’d be paying for another painting before everything was all said and done. Maybe two.

Thank you for coming Denny, Weckman said as she stood. She was tall and svelte, light complected with long blonde hair.

Denny liked her immediately.

You’re welcome, he said as he extended his large hand toward her.

Please have a seat Denny, Weckman said after shaking hands.

Thank you.

Congratulations on winning the Super Bowl.

Thank you.

Look Denny, I won’t pretend with you. I’m a big fan of yours.

Thank you.

But … I DON’T like to lose in court.

I understand.

I hope you do. As I told you over the phone, I’ll represent you, providing that you pass a polygraph. Are we on the same page?

Yes, ma’am.

I used to be an assistant in the district attorney’s office. I know the Erie County D.A. King Whiteman. He’ll go to any lengths to win a case. He has got to be salivating at getting your ass inside a courtroom.

I don’t understand.

Let’s say it’s personal.

How?

He LOVES the Spirits like a mistress. Likewise, he absolutely despises the Colonials. Years ago a true love left him for someone in the Colonials’ circle. You’ve probably heard of her-Mrs. Angela Steed.

The owner’s wife?

Yes. And now with what is allegedly happening on his turf before a game between the Spirits and the Colonials will only intensify his desire to take you out. A Colonial defiled someone within the Spirit’s territory. It’s not really you he’s going after, in his mind he is getting back at Jackson Steed. Anyone connected with the Colonials is a son of a bitch and you’re the number one son of a bitch right now. Trust me. We need a good defense.

I agree.

Look me in the eye and answer me. Did you have sex with D’Anna Frostman?

Denny looked Weckman straight in her blue eyes. No ma’am.

Denny, she claims the condom must have had a hole in it.

Ms. Weckman, she’s lying. A lot of young girls fantasize about having sex with sports figures.

Weckman nodded. She was fantasizing a bit herself.

I swear I never met D’Anna Frostman. I would NEVER touch a minor.

Have you ever donated sperm to a sperm bank?

No.

Alright, then let’s go across the hall. I have someone waiting to administer a polygraph.

Right now? Denny said shocked.

Why Yes. You act like you have something to hide, Mr. Sullivan?

No, not at all.

Then let’s go.

Across the hall, Weckman introduced Denny to polygrapher, Harvey Gore.

After Denny was hooked up to the polygraph, Gore began his questioning.

Is your name Denny Sullivan?

Yes.

Were you in Buffalo, New York, on September 6th, 2003?

Yes.

Were you at the Arlington Arms Hotel?

Yes.

Do you know D’Anna Frostman?

No.

Did you have sex with D’Anna Frostman in your hotel room?

No.

The questioning continued until Denny was exhausted. Weckman was serious when she said she wanted him to pass a polygraph.

Thirty minutes later, after the test was finally over, he was informed that he had passed.

Back inside her office, Weckman continued her own questioning of Sullivan.

Denny, are you aware that hotels like the Arlington Arms have security cameras?

I never really thought about it.

Well they do-for the safety of their patrons and themselves regarding lawsuits. I’ve already drafted a request for a subpoena for the DVR surveillance recording from the Arlington Arms Hotel for the night of September 6, 2003. Count on the district attorney to do the same. Weckman paused. "Denny, the surveillance recording will show if D’Anna Frostman came to your room. Due to all of the rumors of your alleged infidelity in the National Orbitor, I need for you to look me in the eye one more time and assure me that you didn’t have sex with D’Anna Frostman."

But Ms. Weckman I just passed the polygraph.

Denny, polygraph tests are not admissible in court because a skilled person can beat the test. Sometimes it’s just dumb luck. Now answer my question, she demanded.

Denny looked Weckman in the eyes for a second time and swore that he had not had sex with D’Anna Frostman.

Alright then, what we have now is a ‘he said-she said’ situation. These situations depend on who is more credible. She says you had sex with her and you say you didn’t. The only way to prove she is lying is to conduct a paternity test. However, until Ms. Frostman pops out her baby there is little we can do. So in the meantime, count on media speculation dragging your name through the mud. Some of your sponsors may feel uncomfortable having you as a spokesman as well. Ultimately, until a paternity test clears you, your life won’t be worth living. So, for appearances sake, and so that your reputation doesn’t suffer anymore than necessary, we need to take the bull by the horns and have Ms. Frostman served paternity papers before the district attorney has you served.

Denny nodded in agreement.

I can have her served tomorrow.

Okay.

However … for what Ms. Frostman has done to you, she deserves to serve time in a woman’s juvenile detention center at least until she’s eighteen to send a message to anyone else trying to pull something like this. So I INSIST that after your name is cleared, you pursue charges against her. I’ll gladly represent you.

Denny agreed.

There is one more thing Denny; NO talking to the media. If you are asked anything, refer the reporters to me. Don’t answer their questions! Anything you say can be used against you in court or twisted for the media’s purposes. Understand?

Yes Ms. Weckman.

And make sure your wife, Priscilla, doesn’t speak to the media either.

What do you mean?

While you were taking the polygraph, Shauna told me Priscilla was doing a phone interview with Gloria Piehl. I have a recording of it listen to this.

"Denny was a wild man when I met him but that was all in the past. All of the rumors leveled against him by the National Orbitor are lies. My Denny doesn’t cheat on me. They are nothing but a tabloid found at the grocery store checkouts notorious for printing lies about celebrities. Denny loves me and I love him. We have been happily married for the past nine years. He will be exonerated after the results of the paternity test prove he isn’t the father. This Frostman girl is delusional. She needs to get help, and I hope for her sake that she does."

CHAPTER FOUR

Denny, I have good news and bad news, Weckman said over the phone.

What is the good news?

I have learned that the surveillance DVR inside the Arlington Arms Hotel writes over itself every forty-five days. Once the DVR writes over itself the previous images are gone. Since September 6, 2003, the DVR has written over itself several times so all of the images from the night in questions are gone. The hotel doesn’t have a back up recording system either.

And what is the bad news?

Detective Fletcher was just by to see me with a warrant. He wants you to return to Buffalo so the police can photograph your naked body.

What are you talking about?

Ms. Frostman has given him a detailed account of the evening she claimed that she spent with you. She also gave a description of your naked body. He wants to see if the description she gave is accurate. I need you to voluntarily return to Buffalo. If we make the police jump through hoops in order to get you served, by going to a Federal Judge, this will only make you look guilty, and the media will eat it up. I believe you will be better served if you cooperate fully and allow yourself to be photographed. This will make your sponsors continue to have confidence in you, unless you’re afraid. You looked me eye to eye and told me you never met Frostman.

I didn’t.

Then you have nothing to worry about.

Okay, whatever you think is best Ms. Weckman.

Be here in the morning around ten. I’ll have my guy photograph you first. Afterward, I’ll accompany you to the police station.

______

In the morning, Weckman was in the room while Denny was being photographed. When he took off his shirt she was impressed. His pecs were huge. His arms were massive. She liked what she saw.

Denny lowered his trousers and stood in his black, jockey shorts while a few more pictures were taken. Then, as instructed, he removed his shorts and stood completely naked and unabashed.

As his shorts came down, Weckman noticed a half-moon-shaped mole on his right hip.

When his shorts were removed and she saw his huge … erect penis, she was beside herself.

It was like a diving board.

Peripherally, Denny could see the look on her face. He couldn’t help but smile.

__________

It didn’t take long for it to leak to the media that D’Anna Frostman’s description of Denny Sullivan’s naked body was spot on; right down to the mole on his right hip.

Torrie Weckman cursed after hearing Gloria Piehl’s report. Things looked bad for Denny now.

Gloria went on.

It is no surprise to me that Frostman was able to describe Sullivan’s nude body. When I worked for the magazine ‘Behind the game’ I interviewed Sullivan inside the locker room. While most of the players were in towels-Sullivan was not. In my article I made mention that he had a half-moon-shaped mole on his right hip. I also mentioned that he had a large penis. This is all public information that Frostman could have easily obtained. I’m still not buying her story that he is the father of her unborn baby.

Weckman felt much better now.

At least until Detective Fletcher stopped by, again.

She picked up her phone and dialed Denny. When he came on the line, she filled him in on Gloria’s report first. There’s more. Detective Fletcher was just here. Because of Frostman’s accurate description of you, he served me with a subpoena for you to submit to a paternity test as soon as Frostman gives birth.

CHAPTER FIVE

Early April 2004

After leaving high school in Dayton, Laura Layton married her sweetheart Reggie Swanson and moved to Cincinnati. She enrolled in college to study criminal law. During her last year in college she joined the police force.

Lieutenant Swanson, as she was now known, smiled as she pulled her white Corvette into Paige Webster’s driveway sporting her personalized license plate reading: Cop#1. She hadn’t seen Paige since the chance visit in Las Vegas a couple of years back.

Paige left the couch when she heard a car pulling up. Looking out of the window, she saw Laura getting out of her car. She wore a red, silk blouse and black slacks that matched the color of her hair.

Paige was already smiling when she opened the door. She had been anxiously awaiting Laura’s arrival. Their koffeeklatch meeting was to plan out their fifteenth class reunion, now just a year away.

With open arms Paige welcomed Laura. As they embraced she said, You look great Laura.

Laura was really pretty. She looked more like a TV cop than a real cop.

Thank you, Laura responded. Although-she couldn’t say the same for Paige who wore an oversized, gray, sweat shirt and jeans. It appeared that she hadn’t even bothered to comb through her dirty blonde hair. They no longer looked like sisters. Regardless, she opened her arms and hugged Paige. She quickly noticed that Paige was no longer the flat belly she had been during their days as cheerleaders.

When the embrace was over, Laura jokingly said, Paige you didn’t tell me that you and Brock were expecting.

What? Paige gasped. She seemed flabbergasted.

Is it a boy or a girl? Laura asked with a devilish smile, as she patted Paige’s belly.

You’re real funny, Paige responded, somewhat put out.

I’m sorry, Laura responded. I couldn’t help myself. You’ve put on a few pounds since I last saw you in Vegas.

It’s alright. I still love you, Paige said. Please come in and take a seat.

Once Laura was inside she looked around somewhat aghast. The place looked like Paige hadn’t dusted since the Civil War. The furniture, a white chair and matching couch looked older, like Paige and Brock had owned it since they got married. Adding to the ambiance, was a ripped, black, recliner sitting in the corner near a large, console TV where a soap opera was playing. In typical fashion (of a man), the recliner had been repaired with silver duct tape.

I haven’t seen that soap in years, Laura said taking a seat on the couch.

Oh, well let me bring you up to date. Jody is pregnant with her shrink’s baby, Paige said, before launching into the story line.

It sounds like my life, Laura said, more or less dismissing the soap opera.

Paige smiled. Laura was her best friend. She really missed her. She wished they were back in school before grown up life had overtaken their youth.

Reggie and I had plans to start a family after I turned thirty, so I would have a chance to get my career going. But he couldn’t be trusted to wear condoms so I had to go on the pill.

Paige sat listening like an obedient child.

"Of course, all of that was before I caught him dicking our maid, Maria, and divorced his sorry ass! ‘The miserable son of a bitch,’ she muttered under her breath. Long, black hair, sweet as a button and beautiful … but Dammit; SHE WAS OFF LIMITS."

Laura sat back in a moment of silence.

Paige remained silent really feeling for her friend.

Would you believe that with her … he was ACTUALLY wearing a condom!

Paige nodded.

Do you think he was having sex with other women besides your maid?

Laura offered a sneer. She had never thought about that.

She’d kill him.

I don’t know, she answered. I really don’t.

I have some coffee brewing, said Paige. Would you like a cup?

Sounds great.

Paige turned off the TV, leaving Jody in the clutches of her shrink, and led Laura into the kitchen.

Laura sat her purse on the table and sat down in a wooden chair with no padding.

Ouch!

Paige stood at the counter and poured two mugs of coffee. After she served Laura, she took a seat. She smiled. It was nice to have a friend to talk to.

So how have you been since I last saw you in Vegas? Laura asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.

Fine. Same old boring life. What about you How do you put up with getting shot at every day?

Laura laughed. I don’t get shot at anymore. After three years of driving a patrol car, I took the Sergeant’s exam and got a desk job. It’s safer.

Oh.

And when I was twenty-eight, I made Lieutenant.

Paige was just starting to ask another question when Laura’s cellphone rang.

Excuse me, Laura said. She put her mug down and raised her phone to her ear, sporting a diamond earring Paige noticed.

Hello … that’s great, Laura said.

While the earring was beautiful it was the gold and silver watch on Laura’s wrist that had really caught Paige’s eye.

Thank you for calling, Laura said. She hung up all smiles like she’d just won the lottery.

Good news? Paige inquired.

Actually yes, Laura said as she clam shelled her cellphone. She didn’t bother to explain if she had won the lottery or not.

Details at six-on your local station.

Your watch is beautiful, Paige blurted out.

Oh, thank you. It’s a gold and stainless steel Datejust by Rolex.

Oh. Paige responded. She looked like a deer in the headlights. She wasn’t familiar with the brand name.

I don’t get to wear it when I’m working. People might think I’m on the take. Laura took another sip of her coffee.

What do you mean?

Well, Paige, between you and me the watch retails for six grand.

Six grand, Paige gasped. That’s more than my car is worth.

Well, I didn’t pay that much of course! Laura said reassuringly.

I would certainly hope not.

I was able to get it on sale for forty-nine hundred.

Paige almost chocked on her coffee. Forty-nine hundred! she shrieked. That’s still more than my car is worth.

Laura laughed.

So, since you’re not on the take-how can you afford such an expensive watch?

Paige, there was a brief pause, you’re my friend, so I won’t lie to you and tell you that I worked hard and saved my money-because on my salary, even now as a Police Lieutenant I could never afford such a luxury. If anyone sees it I just let them think I bought it with money from my divorce settlement.

But?

Well, in truth I didn’t really get a whole lot of shit in the settlement.

Laura, you’re my friend too, Paige said. With a bit of hesitation she added, But … you’re avoiding my question.

I know, Laura said. She took a deep breath. Alright, if you really want to know, my friend Charlene Bosner helped me. She’s a medical doctor. She has her own clinic in Cincinnati. Her specialty is working as a fertility specialist.

Oh, Paige responded.

"She’s rich Paige. Everything she has is expensive. Her clothes, her shoes, her car; a Jaguar. She also has several Rolex watches. In fact she’s so rich that her maid drives a Cadillac."

Paige’s eye widened.

I’m just kidding about the maid, she said smiling.

Oh.

I don’t know what she drives.

That went over Paige’s head.

So how did Charlene help you get such an expensive watch? Paige asked, her eyes glued onto the Rolex.

Well, not long after my divorce was final, I was conversing with Charlene over coffee much like we’re doing right now. And as we were talking I just happened to mention that things were getting tough after losing Reggie’s second income. She told me that she understood. She once had a ‘Reggie’ in her life too. And she told me that she might be able to help me. When I inquired, she told me in confidence that she had a side business going on.

What kind of side business?

"Well … Paige I need for you to promise that you’ll never breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you to anyone, not even Brock."

Okay, Paige answered innocently.

"Paige, promise me-on our friendship," Laura politely insisted.

Alright … I promise.

Charlene confided in me that she was paying girls to have babies.

‘Paying girls to have babies’, Paige questioned slowly.

"Yes. As a fertility specialist, Charlene is in possession of MANY left over embryos that her clients don’t need. They are slated to be destroyed but on the sly, she uses them through in vitro fertilization to impregnate surrogates, or what she refers to as her birthers. After they give birth, Charlene sells the babies to rich couples who can’t have children. She makes a tidy profit as well."

What do you mean?

"Paige, infertile couples with money are willing to pay plenty for a healthy baby. I help her locate couples in need of children in turn I get a cut of the money which allows me to live the life I deserve and to buy the things that I want-like this Rolex."

But Laura; you’re a cop. Is this legal?

Well, Laura said before taking another sip, not really, she answered nonchalantly offering a broad smile.

But you’re breaking the law.

Oh Paige, Laura chastised, you’re still the same naive girl you were in school, she scolded.

You don’t have to be so snarky! Paige responded somewhat defensively. She had been crushed inside.

I’m not trying to be snarky. Paige, listen to me; there’s a whole world going on out there whether you’re a part of it or not. God made plenty of women barren. Conversely, there are a plethora of girls who get abortions EVERY DAY. I know you’re against that, aren’t you?

Well yes.

In helping Charlene no one is getting hurt Paige. Our birthers are HELPING couples who want children. They give birth to children who will be loved by rich couples who can afford to provide for them. It’s a win-win situation. After all, the embryos are just going to be thrown away. Aren’t you against that morally?

I guess, a bewildered Paige responded, almost as if being led by the nose.

Look Paige, I’m tired of working hard just to pay bills and taxes so the GREEDY GOVERNMENT can waste MY tax money. It’s time I did something for MYSELF! All of the money I get from Charlene is in cash. This was an opportunity too good to pass up. I hope you can understand.

Paige didn’t respond. Even with a few seconds to think she didn’t know quite what to say. She just knew this wasn’t the same Laura she had grown up with.

How money changes some people.

For the next few minutes while they sat sipping their coffee, in silence, Laura kept starting to say something but she kept stopping herself.

Finally Paige spoke up. Laura, we’ve known each other for a long time. Is there something that you want to say? Her tone was cold.

"Well, now that you ask-yes