Hankie alert! Adult situations in this part. See Part I for specific disclaimers.

Thanksgiving

Conclusion Part A

by

Fantasy

November 23, 2000 Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

Chapter 7: Winners and Losers

"I am not going to allow Syd to play in this game tonight while that fool whacko is running around loose! We don’t know where she is or what she’s planning in her sick mind. How do you propose to protect her in a gymnasium filled with 2000 more people?" My angel was certainly not thrilled with Kyle’s plan, and I had to admit I had my doubts when he first suggested it. But the more I thought about it, the more I decided we needed to pull Askins out of hiding and this might be the perfect way to accomplish that.

"I know how you feel Mrs. McGregor, and I it were my child I’d be very concerned too; you have a right to be. But Syd will actually be safer playing in the game, surrounded by her teammates and coaches, than she would be alone. And we’ll have all the entrances and exits controlled with plain clothed policemen. We have the advantage in that we know what she looks like."

"Have you given any thought to the idea she might have someone else working with her whom we don’t know about?" Becca shouted angrily. Whoa, yeah how about that smartass? Shut up and listen.

"Yes ma’am we have thought about that," Larry Carmichael replied, "but with the information we received from the FBI we don’t think she’s got anyone else with her. From the profile we have on her, all her previous actions indicate she is a loner, anti-social, and avoids entanglements with other people." Lieutenant Larry Carmichael was Kyle’s partner, and an expert in psychopathic behavior. The FBI, profiles; what the hell do they know? A lot!

In a very short period of time we had learned quite a bit about the former basketball coach. She had been very close to her sister Shelly. When the younger woman had come to California to go to UCLA, Barbara was devastated. She thought California was a hot bed on inequity and sin. She was afraid Shelly would fall in with the wrong crowd and be doomed forever. Her perverted fundamentalist beliefs had totally taken over her life. Disillusioned with her parent’s apparent falling away from their conservative mid-west values, Barbara had joined a splinter group of born again Christians, who made other fundamentalist groups look downright liberal in comparison. The dangerous thing about this group, who called themselves The True Followers of Christ, was a large portion of the members belonged to hate groups such as the KKK, the Minnesota Militia, and the Aryan Nations. The latter made it’s home in North Central Idaho, relatively close to the town of Ellensberg, Washington where the family had moved. These hate groups targeted any group they perceived to be threats to home and hearth: Jews, minorities, and especially gays and lesbians. Barbara tried to get her younger sister to join her cult, but the younger woman refused time and time again. Finally, since she couldn’t get the young woman to come home, she hired a private investigator to find and keep an eye on her sister. But the investigator had little or no success. Shelly, afraid of her sister’s increasingly angry attempts to control her life, had gone underground. And in a city the size of LA and the surrounding area, if someone wanted to get lost, they could do so very easily.

After having no success with the investigator, Barbara came to LA in search of her sister. She entered UCLA herself to complete a masters program in sports medicine. All the while she was in school, from 1983-1985, she continued to try to find her sister. After completing her masters, she gave up and went back to the mid-west where she took a position at a small town high school in Indiana as the women’s basketball coach. She was there for three years before she received a message from the former investigator she hired. Enclosed with the short note was an obituary from the LA Times describing the death of a UCLA co-ed two and a half years early, apparently the victim of spousal abuse. The description fit Shelly. The distraught woman went into a downward spiral of depression and hate. She blamed the environment, more than the man, for her sister's murder, and she vowed vengeance on whomever was responsible for her sister’s death. She left her position in Indiana and came back out west. She took another position at Pepperdine University as an Assistant Women’s Basketball Coach. She began a methodical, deliberate search for Shelly’s killer. Finally she found him in the Los Angeles Correctional Facility near Anaheim. She was able to see him, and he told her everything he knew. He said the woman he had taken in was nothing but a harlot, sleeping around with every man she could who would help support her drug habit. The last straw came when he discovered she was pregnant, and he unceremoniously threw her out on her ass. He lost track of her for the better part of a year. When he found her again, she had given birth, but didn’t have the child. She said it died. Barbara went into a blind rage at the terrible vile things the prisoner said about her beloved sister. Whatever sanity the woman had left was destroyed at that moment. She was overcome with a twisted perverse hate for the city and all the people therein whom she blamed for her sister’s downfall. As for the man serving a life sentence for murder? He was found dead in his cell some three months later; the victim of an obvious inmate/gang related murder. No further investigation was undertaken.

Barbara Askins had spent the next twelve and a half years on a perverse quest to find, and eliminate, anyone who had anything whatsoever to do with causing her sister any pain. There were a string of unsolved murders of pimps, prostitutes, and drug dealers in and around the City of Angels. Authorities attributed the deaths to bad drug deals and the like, and since the victims were the dregs of society, the investigations were not pursued too zealously. There was nothing to point to the murderer except a cryptic message painted on a wall, floor, or street: ‘The wrath of God is upon you; repent for the sake of your souls.’ In terms of actual body count, Askins was only responsible for one or two. She hired some drug dealer or gang member to do the deeds for drugs or money or both. She reasoned, in her sick mind, God would forgive her for using illegal methods. After all, it was for the greater good.

Then on one of her holy missions, she found a prostitute who lived with Shelly in some flophouse on the East Side. She told her, in a feeble attempt to save her miserable life, that Shelly’s child was alive. Shelly told her just before she died she had taken the child to a trauma center, she didn’t know which one, to save the baby’s life. That was three years ago, and she had spent that time searching for her niece, vowing to take her home and raise her properly, as a God fearing, upstanding citizen. When she finally found the child, she found to her horror, Syd had been adopted by lesbians and forced into God only knew what horrific transgressions in the name of perversion.

The revelations from the FBI file were so incredible; they were not to be believed. What Harley failed to comprehend was why, given all the information they had on the woman, she wasn’t locked up somewhere, or better yet, in San Quentin on death row. The explanation was quite simple. While the woman had actually been in custody on several different occasions, there was no concrete evidence with which to hold her, so she was turned loose. We have an unwritten law in this country: innocent until proven guilty. There was no doubt about it; the woman was totally insane. I tried as best I could to reassure my frightened wife.

"You see babe," I said, "she wants to hurt us not Syd. She thinks we’re an abomination in the eyes of God. She wants to take Syd away from our supposed evil influence."

"Listen Rebecca Marie," Harley tightened his arms around his little girl, "the police will have Syd totally covered." Harley directed his next comment to the sweating young dectective. "Mac is right, you and she are in more danger than Syd is, and that Mr. Psychopath Expert, is what I’m most concerned about. Just how do you propose to protect my girls?" Wow! Did you hear that? He included you in the girl thing. Wonder if he’s coming down with something. Oh ha ha ha!

"Mr. Danforth, I understand your concern as well. Believe me, we are taking every precaution to insure your family’s safety." Carmichael tried to be as sympathetic as possible. But, I think like everyone else who met the ex-sheriff/marine; he felt more than a little intimidated. Even at seventy years old Harley was still a very imposing person. And when his temper flared, ‘…Katie bar the door!’

"Well my boy," Harley drawled, "you just better make damn sure you do or you’ll be dealing with me up close and personal, understand son?" The young police officer could only nod emphatically and try to swallow the lump lodge in his throat. Been there done that Larry ol’ boy. And how!

"All right then, now that we are all agreed," Kyle began, "let’s get down to it…"

*******************

"Stanton, you fool! I should have known not to trust something as important as this to a simpleton like you," Askins seethed. "If my mission fails because of you, I will see you dead too." The woman got up and paced back and forth in the old run-down trailer. "Think, Barbara, think. They’re sure to know about me now, how I’m related to Sydnee. But they probably don’t know exactly what I had planned for her, for them all. I can still make this work; yes with the Good Lord’s help, I can still make this work," she laughed maniacally as she exited the trailer.

What we didn’t know until later, while we were talking with Stanton, was that Askins had come into the outer office. Stanton’s airhead secretary told her we were with him, but fortunately that’s all she told her. She didn’t know why we were there, only that we had gone in unannounced and Stanton was then hustled to Dr. Vargas’ office when we were through. Stanton spilled his guts about other nefarious actions for which he was responsible, and would be spending a very long time in prison. This could actually work to our benefit Kyle reasoned. He explained that there was a possibility Askins would have to alter her plans, which would be last minute changes. For someone as methodical and careful as she was this could lead to mistakes. The other advantage was that she no longer held the element of surprise on her side. We would have extra security measures in place she would not have counted on. Kyle suggested we put extra uniformed police officers on duty in plan sight. This might lead Askins to think this was our only security addition. The undercover officers would be our ace in the hole. On top of that, two of the three referees were actually police officers, who just happen to referee adult city league games. So no matter what Askins had planned, we felt confident we were prepared for her. Still there was the unknown element of a crazy person like Askins. That was the one thing that worried me. We could never be sure what she would do, and that alone made her very, very dangerous.

By the time all the security measures were in place, it was almost time to go to the gym. As an added precaution, Kyle put a wire on Syd. In the worse case scenario, and Askins actually succeeded in kidnapping Syd, we would be able to track her movements, and hear what was going on, and if possible Syd could tell us where she had been taken. The small transmitter could be easily hidden under her jersey, and hopefully Askins wouldn’t be any the wiser. We had eaten dinner in relative silence, which for our family was pretty unusual in its self. Hank and Margie joined us, along with Angie and Harley. Everyone else would be at the game: Irish and Gil and Doug and Edna. Coach David Dryer and his wife Annie were there too. David decided, at the last minute, he would be the new assistant women’s basketball coach. He was big enough, and ornery enough that no one argued with him. I think new Head Coach Linda Garrison was very happy to have this gentle giant along side her under the circumstances. Rachel and Gary, of course ,were on vacation, so they knew nothing about any of this.

We pulled into the already full parking lot at the high school sports complex. Everyone in the Blazer was very nervous; I could have cut the tension with a knife. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t we just live in peace; there seemed to always be some damned turmoil constantly boiling around us. God why couldn’t our life just be simple? Well, maybe this was the last thing. I hoped so. I glanced around at all the expectant faces looking to me for guidance. Jeeze what’s wrong with this picture?

"Well I guess it’s time huh?" I said softly. Surprisingly the only voice of wisdom and strength came from a fifteen-year-old kid. And you’re surprised why?

"Look at all of you!" Syd yelled. "You act like we’re going to a funeral or something. Mom, Mother, I have all the faith in the world that you will keep me safe. Why don’t you?" Good question there smartass; got an answer? What could I say?

"Aaahhh c’mere baby," I sighed as I opened my arms to my baby girl. "I’m sorry; you’re right. You have always put your complete trust in me, and I’ve never let you down. Now I find I doubt myself; I don’t know why. Forgive me?" My blonde haired baby settled herself in my arms, and snuggled comfortably in my embrace.

"Mom there is absolutely nothing to forgive. I love you and I trust you; nothing will never make me not believe in you and mother." And I will die before I betray that trust.

"Let’s do it then." Heads nodded all around, and the seven of us entered the sports center.

The gym was alive with life. Young people’s raucous cheers filled the air. The gym was packed to the rafters for the girl’s first game of the season. The women’s team had quite a following, and men’s teams supported their female counterparts to the hilt. In fact, the captains of the men’s football and basketball teams, along with several other prominent male athletes comprised the cheer leading squad. If there were any macho types, around the school, who thought the boys were demeaning themselves by cheering for the girls weren’t brave enough to face David and Scott Vargas to voice their complaints. The fact of the matter was that the boys were quite good and took their self-chosen avocation quite seriously. I had to admit, I felt a lot better with all the extra muscle near at hand. To my surprise, the football team had chosen to sit, in masse, behind and to the sides of the girl’s bench. There were ten vacant seats reserved for us to sit behind the team. We escorted Syd to the home team locker room where two uniformed police officers were standing guard on either side of the doors. Ange was waiting there for Syd to arrive as well.

"Hey Syd, are you okay? Coach, Mrs. M is everything all right? Wow that schizoid Askins is a prize bitch, huh?" Just as soon as the words were out of her mouth Ange realize her mistake. The disapproving glare from Becca helped the realization along I’m sure. I just grunted noncommittally. Sounds like a right on description to me; I don’t see the problem. No, I’m sure you wouldn’t. Syd slapped her best friend lovingly up side the head.

"Ange don’t swear; it sounds like hell." Syd looked to me for approval.

"Yeah Ange, ya really should watch your language," then I added in a whisper, "but I gotta tell ya, your character evaluation is right on the mark. And everyone’s fine. After tonight, hopefully this will be just an unpleasant memory, and Askins will be put away where she can’t harm anyone." Coach Garrison came out of her office and met us in the corridor.

"Oh great! You all are here. Girls you go on in and get ready. I’ll join you shortly." The point guard and the strong forward entered the locker room to prepare for the game. The coach eyed Becca and I seriously. "Are you sure about this…I mean…if Askins is as off balance as we think, then we’re in serious trouble here."

"Linda I understand and appreciate your concern, but we can’t barricade ourselves in the house and hope this will go away on its own, cause that ain’t gonna happen. I think we’re better off to take the offensive and not let her do whatever she wants on her own time. Isn’t that what you’d do Coach Garrison?"

"Dr. McGregor, with all due respect this isn’t a simple basketball game, this is a life and death matter. You can’t just…"

"Whoa, hold on there Linda," I said sternly, "let’s not over dramatize this situation. I realize how serious this is, but I don’t think we’re in a life and death struggle. The authorities think, and we agree," I wrapped my arm around my wife in a gesture of love and solidarity, "that more than likely Askins plans on kidnapping Syd, not hurt her. I don’t doubt she would try to hurt me, if she could, but I assure you, that ain’t gonna happen either. We just need you to concentrate on the job at hand and coach these girls to a victory."

"That’s right Linda," Becca agreed, "I have all the faith in the world in Stacey and the police. We’ll get Barbara Askins put away, I promise you that." The contralto voice dripping with venom left no room for any misinterpretation about my wife’s meaning or her determination to protect our daughter. God I love this woman. Garrison just shook her head.

"Ya know what I think?" We shook our heads in unison. "I think Barbara Askins sorely underestimated the three of you and your family and friends. I also think, excuse my language Mrs. McGregor, she’s in really, really, deep, deep shit." I like this woman, a lot.

Becca and I went out into the gym to take our seats, and anxiously awaited the events of the evening to unfold. Anxious hell, don’t give me that. I’m so scared I’ve got shit running down both legs and so do you. Shut the hell up; you I don’t need right now. But you’re right.

*******************

Askins was waiting outside in the shadows watching and waiting. She still had her keys, so she was confident she would be able to enter and exit the building wherever and whenever she wanted. What she didn’t know was that we had changed the locks; but not all of them. We didn’t change the locks Askins normally used to gain access to the sports complex. Lieutenant Carmichael assured us she was a creature of habit, and we planned to use this characteristic to control her movements. I only hoped we guessed right on what locks we left alone. Askins tried her key in a seldom-used maintenance entrance.

"Aaahhh, just like taking candy from a baby," Askins purred, "these stupid fools don’t have a clue."

Little did the former coach know, she was being watched and every move she made was being tracked. Sophisticated heat sensor monitoring equipment had been installed during the day. Even as she entered the building, her whereabouts were precisely registered on the monitoring equipment in the police van situated next to the building. The van was donated by Doug Flannery, and looked to be an ordinary soda pop delivery truck. Its presence at athletic venues was certainly not out of the ordinary and wouldn’t be questioned. Askins was no more than ten feet away but never gave the truck a second glance.

"Subject has been spotted at the south entrance." a disembodied voice announced over the high sensitive radio equipment. Lieutenant Kyle O’Brien answered immediately.

"Roger that Layton. Move in and keep the subject in visual, but don’t intercept. Repeat don’t intercept." Officer Layton responded accordingly.

"Got that Lieutenant, I’m moving in now."

Oblivious to the potential danger immediately behind her, Askins concentrated on the myriad of uniformed police officers stationed at various locations throughout the building. Askins simply shook her head.

"You amateurs will not stop me from completing my sacred duty."

Askins continued down the corridor only to stop dead and flattened herself against the wall in the shadows to avoid detection. The locker room doors were flung open and the Malibu High Seals stormed out into the hallway heading for the gym. The men’s football team and the male cheer leading squad formed a corridor of human flesh for the girl’s team and coaches to pass through. The first to emerge was Coach Garrison followed closely by Syd and Ange and the rest of the Seals. Scott Vargas was the ‘head cheerleader’ and as such greeted the team first, or more specifically Syd. He winked shamelessly at my baby girl, and Syd blushed furiously. I wasn’t the only one to notice the movement from our seats just a 100 feet away.

"Hey what’s the matter with that big oaf," Harley grumbled, "he got a tick or something?" Oh my God jarine, buy a clue will ya? Angie placed a gentle hand on the ex-marine’s arm.

"No dear, I believe he was winking at Syd. Don’t you think so Stacey Lynn?" Even with the deadly seriousness of the events surrounding us, which we had no idea how would play out, I found myself nearly doubled over with laughter. Oh yeah like you have any reason to laugh. That kid has been practically a permanent fixture at the house, all summer and fall, and you just noticed it a week ago. Hey I been busy ya know! I recovered enough to answer Angie’s question.

"Yes Mom, I do think that’s what he was doing." Harley glared at me, his sharp, clear hazel eyes shooting daggers in my direction.

"And I suppose you’re okay with this?" Becca came to my rescue.

"I think the real concern, Dad, is whether or not Syd is okay with this, and I think she is. And if she is so are we." Ha, so there. I did the mature thing and stuck my tongue out at my father-in-law. Becca tweaked my ear, painfully pulling my head closer to her lips. "Stop it," she hissed, then kissed the now sore lobe.

"Ow," I whined, "that hurt."

"Good," she said, "it was s’posed to."

Throughout our playful banter, I hadn’t noticed that we had been firmly encased in about one ton of solid muscle as the football team took up their positions in the seats all around the seats we occupied. Across the way, the yell leaders were stationed in front of the student population. Little did we know, the students had formulated their own plan. At the first sign of trouble, they decided they would storm the floor and surround the team using their bodies to protect and shield our little girl. I watched the team huddle in front of us and said a little prayer…

"I know I probably don’t do this often enough. It seems like I’m only praying when I want something. But please God, if you never listen to another of my prayers as long as I live please hear this one. Don’t let any harm come to my baby girl or my angel. Please keep them safe. I’ll give up my own life if need be, but don’t let anyone harm them. I’m begging you. Thank you." I think He heard you.

*******************

The stalker had positioned herself in the upper level, what everyone referred to as the nose bleed seats. She had a perfect view of the gym floor and the security personnel as they covered the entrances and exits. What she couldn’t spot were the undercover people who were watching her every move. In fact there was one only a few feet from her position posing as a custodian. Only this custodian had lethal martial arts and hand-to-hand fighting skills. A feeling of overconfidence permeated the woman. Her sick mind believed she was performing God’s wishes on earth and would be rewarded in the afterlife by a position at God’s right hand.

"Well my darling Sydnee, it won’t be long now, all we have to do is wait. Our time will come." Having said that, Askins settled down to watch the game, biding her time before she would make her move.

The game was really exciting, and we controlled the opening tip-off and a strategic pass to the low post found Ange all alone and she was able to lay the ball in for an easy score. The crowd went wild, cheering loudly, but none louder than a very proud father did.

"Way to go Ange," Doug yelled, rising to his feet jumping up and down, "good pass Kylie." When the usually staid man realized ten sets of eyes were watching him, he sat down, a sheepish grin covered his face. "Guess I got all excited. Sorry."

"Sorry hell," Harley slapped the embarrassed man soundly on the back, "you just wait til my Sydnee René scores, then you’ll hear yellin’!" And true to his word, the next time down on defense Syd stole the ball and dribbled the length of the floor to lay the ball in for another easy score.

"You bet Syd," Harley shouted, "you go girl!" The only difference between Harley and Doug’s cheers was that now everyone was shouting at the top of their lungs. Forgotten was the mad woman who was stalking our little girl, a fact that was not lost on the psycho.

"That’s right, McGregor you evil bitch, laugh and cheer. It will be your last chance because after tonight you will never see Sydnee again and you will no longer be able to infect her with your sickness. My sister was weak. If she had only told me the truth, I could have helped her; her punishment would have been light, I would have protected her from God’s wrath. I could have intervened, but…oh well, now I will have my vengeance. The Lord is with me and I shall not fail in my endeavor; in His name I swear it!"

The end of the first quarter found us ahead by six points. Hollywood High had a good team, and they matched up pretty evenly in terms of talent. But what they lacked was the intangibles the Seals possessed. The Seals’ co-captains Syd and Ange led by example. With Syd’s tenacity and pure strength of will, and Ange’s fierce determination to not allow anyone to get past her defense, the rest of the team picked up their play in direct proportion, and the Stars fate was sealed. Sealed? That’s really lame. So sue me.

The teams took the court for the second quarter and the Stars lost the ball to our team’s stifling defense. Kylie, our six-foot center received a no look pass from Syd, and put in a short three-foot jumper. An exchange of defensive rebounds took place for the next couple of trips down the floor. Finally, Tina Miller our other forward received an inbound pass to the corner and lofted a three-pointer that hit nothing but the bottom of the net. From then on the floodgates were open and the rout was on. At the end of the half, The Malibu Seals had a comfortable fifteen point lead, 50-35, over the hapless Hollywood High Stars. The teams departed for their respective locker rooms to plan second half strategy. Harley and Doug were convinced the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Our team would win; the only argument was over by how much and how many points our girls would score. Never one to miss an opportunity to make a friendly wager, Irish entered the heated discussion.

"Well now gents, ya wouldn’t be wantin’ to make just a wee wager on the outcome now would ya?" Irish asked in her best brogue. Harley, Doug, be careful or you’ll heading home without your shirts. Doug was a bit dubious due to his more conservative nature. Harley, on the other hand, was fists on for anything.

"All right Irish," he grinned, "just what do ya have in mind." There’s a sucker born every minute, right? I think somebody said something like that at one time, yes.

"Well since this will be a friendly wee wager, we won’t be bettin’ against the girls. I say we settle on the final score. Agree do ya?" Harley nodded emphatically; Doug took a little more convincing.

"Oh come on Flannery," Harley jabbed Doug in the ribs with an elbow, "what’s the harm? We ain’t bettin’ the farm here." Don’t be too sure their bucko.

"Okay," Doug said firmly, "I’m in. What’s the bet?" Gotcha me boys, Irish grinned wickedly.

"Let’s see. Since this is a friendly wager, and there are children involved, the winner gets treated, along with the team, at Garcia’s, the loser buys." I poked Irish in the shoulder and whispered.

"What about your diet there porko." Irish glared at me menacingly. She had lost nearly 100 pounds, and had kept it off for the last six months.

"Watch it squirt, I’ll have ta hurt ya. Gus still has my frozen yogurt ya know," Irish hissed.

"Hey it’s okay by me, I was just checkin’." My angel shook her head.

"You just can’t resist can you," she giggled.

"Nope," I snorted, "not in this lifetime."

Even with the playfulness we engaged in, I could see the tension and fear deep in my angel’s eyes. That crazy was still here in this building somewhere, and although the authorities would be tracking her movements, we had no clue where she was. I took my world’s hand in mine. I kissed the entwined fingers and whispered.

"Don’t worry my heart, we’ll get her. Syd will come home with us safe and sound, I promise." My angel managed a weak smile and nodded.

"I know my soul, I have all the faith in the world in you. It’s just…not knowing where she is …its…"

"Baby, I know, I’m scared too. But Kyle and his men are out there, watching and waiting. She’s outnumbered with no where to run. But we have to wait until she makes a move, otherwise we’ll have nothing to hold her on, we can let her escape justice. We have to be strong. And look there, Syd has her own personal protector." As the team came out of the locker room for the second half, a tall well-muscled young man stopped Syd and whispered something in her ear. Syd blushed profusely and ran to catch up with her teammates.

"They’re awfully cute together aren’t they?" My world asked.

"Yeah, I wonder Scott knows how much trouble he’s in?" I chuckled.

"If it’s anything like us, it’ll be a lot." My heart whispered, then laid her head on my shoulder and I kissed her temple. The blatant PDA was observed from the watcher high in the rafters.

"You evil, barbarous sinners will be punished! I will take from you what you love and cherish most, your child. She will be cleansed and you will be thrown into the burning pits of hell for eternity as punishment for your transgressions. I swear this in His Holy Name!"

*******************

The second half went pretty much the way the first did, except that our smothering defense became more intense, and our outside shooters were hitting lights out. For the Stars, the final buzzer mercifully sounded. The final score was 93-61 in favor of the Malibu Seals’, their season was off and running. We had sat through the entire game, and Askins had not yet made her move. Maybe we were just over reacting; maybe the woman was just a little weird and really meant no one any harm, maybe she was really innocent of those other crimes. You really don’t believe that do you? Remember the file? The erratic behavior, the terminated positions for insubordination? People turning up dead whenever she was around? That’s a little too coincidental if ya ask me. The woman is a loose canon ready to go off at any moment. God you pick some of the worst times to be logical and right! What can I say?

Becca and I followed Syd to the locker room and waited for her to shower so we could go help Irish devour her ill-gotten gains. The boys were still grumbling about losing to the Irish woman. Gil and I just laughed. Not only did the woman cover the point spread, but also she had the score dead bang on. Irish’s father had been an avid horse racing fan and worked on the racetracks as a young man. Irish hung around the stables, talked to jockeys, the owners, and whoever else would give her information on horses and the odds on their winning or losing. Irish was one person in the world you’d never want to bet against because she’d take you to the cleaners every time. If we only knew our stalker had managed to lose her watchdog, we would have been more alert. But the officer disguised as a custodian had violated the cardinal rule of surveillance: don’t go in alone, and never, ever underestimate the opposition. The young man disregarded both those rules and paid the ultimate price.

"Well, well Dr. McGregor you have hidden some wolves in amongst the sheep. No matter, I’ll not be deterred from my goal. Every drop of blood I spill will be on your hands, but I will not stop until I have rescued my niece from your evil clutches."

There seemed to be no reason for alarm, but I felt the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. We had been standing in the dressing area of the locker room for several minutes when Ange came out.

"Where’s Syd?" I asked, my protective, mothering streak instantly kicked in.

"Oh she’s still in the shower, she’ll be out in a sec," Ange replied. Syd was notorious for being the last one out of the shower at home or anywhere…Oh my God. Askins would know that; as the coach she’d know her player’s habits.

"Ange is there anyone else in there with her?"

"No coach. Why…" Ange never got a chance to finish her question before I bolted past her into the shower area.

My heart was lodged in my throat at the sight before my eyes. The water was still running, rinsing away telltale traces of blood down the drain. Syd’s clothes were gone and so was Syd.

"Syd!" I screamed. "Syd where are you?!"

The only answer I received was my own voice echoing throughout the empty shower room. I looked down to find the remnants of the radio transmitter lying crushed on the floor. In the dressing room nearby, scrawled in the condensation on the mirror were the words ‘God’s vengeance has been served!’ In the back of the room, the outside door was slightly ajar. I moved cautiously but determinedly forward. I pushed the door, but it wouldn’t open. I put all my weight against the door and found the impedance on the ground at my feet. Another security guard had been taken out. The man’s throat had been slit and he was lying there in a pool of his own blood. Instantly panic gripped my heart. Syd was in that woman’s clutches; that mad woman was holding my baby girl. I lost it; I screamed at the top of my lungs, my anguished cries filling the still night air.

"Askins you bitch! You hurt my baby and there will be nowhere on this earth you can hide. All the powers of heaven and hell combined won’t stop me from finding you and ripping you heart out of your chest!"

I dropped to my knees as though I had been kicked square in the guts. All the beatings my ol" man gave me put together never hurt as badly as the pain I felt now deep in my chest. Then, the silence was shattered by the sound of running footsteps and people shouting.

"Over here, I found something."

I recognized the voice as belonging to David Vargas, Scott’s younger brother. Somehow, I managed to get to my feet and struggled to the location where his brother and Kyle now joined David, along with several police officers. Harley and Angie were supporting my angel. I rushed to her side and took my shaking wife in my arms.

"Baby, oh my love I am so sorry. I let you down, but I swear as bad as this is, I promise you, I’ll get our little girl back." I barely got the words out when I heard a high pitched scream which came from the general direction of the football stadium.

"You sniveling little bitch, you bit me!" Askins whined and sucked the webbing between her thumb and forefinger, which was bleeding profusely, along with several scratches that, ran the length of the woman’s cheek.

"You damned right I bit you, you fucking lunatic, and that’s not all…" Syd’s voice died away as the larger, older woman slammed her fist into the side of my daughter’s head. Syd crumpled to the ground in a heap. But the momentary distraction was all Scott needed to launch his successful attack. There was a strangled groan, and then the sounds of fists slamming into flesh.

"You crazy fucking bitch, you hit my girl. You tried to hurt my woman. No one does that and gets away with it. So help me God I’ll kill you for hurting my Syd." Scott continued his verbal and physical abuse to the already unconscious woman. For Scott’s sake, a large dark form came rushing from the north end zone and pulled the angry violent young man from the now silent, prostrate form.

"Scott, Scott, calm down, that’s enough. We got to leave enough of her to stand trial. Look Syd’s okay." The now somewhat appeased teenager looked over to where Syd was lying cradled in her mother’s arms. The huge football coach set, the only slightly smaller, young man to his feet. Scott staggered slightly before he regained his balance and walked the few steps to where his avowed girlfriend lay.

"Hey Syd," Scott said softly, tenderly reaching out to caress the ugly bruise on Syd’s cheekbone. "Are…uh…are you okay? I mean she didn’t hurt you anywhere else…cause…cause if she did…I’ll…" My angel took the young man’s hand in hers and placed it gently into Syd’s.

"Scott Syd has a nasty bruise, but I think she’ll be fine. I’m no doctor, but I know a very good one who…" Oh shit, I’m a doctor! I can do this! Where’s Irish, I want the odds on this one before I make any bets. Finally, my brain and legs engaged at the same time and I knelt down next to the two people who meant the world to me.

"Hey pumpkin, mom’s here, let me have a look at that head."

An ambulance had been called, and arrived at the same time my brain did. I recognized the EMTs as those who I had worked with frequently. Mel Wilson and Jana Davis were excellent Medics, and I knew my little girl would be in good hands on the ride to the Trauma Center. Of course I had no intention of leaving her side, and there would be no keeping Becca out of the ambulance for the ride to the center. The EMTs recognized us immediately as they bent to their respective tasks.

"Dr. McGregor what’s the status. My God that’s Syd," Jana gasped. The doctor in me kicked in immediately and I mildly reprimanded the medic.

"This patient has a minor trauma to the left temporal region. I need a penlight, I don’t have mine."

Without a moment’s hesitation, Irish was kneeling next to me. The two of us automatically reverting to the professional, medical personnel we had been for over twenty years. Harley gently lifted his daughter to her feet, along with Scott’s help. Becca was nearly dead on her feet at the prospect of her daughter’s injury being of the more serious kind I usually dealt with. Irish had placed the blood pressure cuff on Syd’s arm and was in the process of taking her vitals when Syd tried to slap her hand away.

"You just lie still there little missy, or I’ll have to spank your butt."

"Mom you heard her, you gonna let her talk to your daughter like that?" The fact that Syd was alert and feisty was a very good sign. So I threatened her myself.

"If you don’t lie still, I’ll help her." Syd looked to her other mother for help, but none was forthcoming. The shock and strain of the past few hours and the relief that it was all over was too much for my love. She fell into Harley’s arms and wept silently.

"What’cha got Irish?"

"BP 120/70, heart rate 65 and steady, respiration 15 and strong."

"Good, eye reactions normal, patient is conscious and alert." I punctuated that statement my kissing my baby girl’s nose. Syd had been lifted onto the gurney and was about to be placed into the waiting ambulance.

"She’s ready for transport. Mel, radio ahead and let them know we're on our way in. I want a CT scan and possibly and MRI. Oh and make sure Skeeter is on duty." I winked at my daughter who rolled her eyes. Then winced in pain. "See, it don’t pay to be a smartass." Not a word, not one, single word. I walked over to my angel and took her in my arms. I brought her face down to mine and kissed her forehead, her eyes, and cheeks. I wiped away her tears and then gently took her lips with mine. "How would you like to say hello to our baby girl and ride with us to the center?"

"Yes Stacey, I would." Becca and I turned to where the gurney was positioned at the open ambulance doors. Then the sounds of raised voices sounded close by.

"Hey that’s my sister! Let go of me you moron; you can’t keep me away from her." Ange struggled mightily against the officer who tried to hold her. I began to feel sorry for the officer whose shins would be a mass of bruises the next day.

"It’s all right officer," I called. "let her through."

"Told ya so. Jerk!" Ange growled, then her voice softened in a heartbeat. "Hey Syd, you okay? That bitch didn’t hurt ya too bad did she?" My blonde haired pixie shook her head slowly, then winced.

"Careful hon," I cautioned.

"Hey Syd, I’ll come to the center to see you okay?" Then Ange turned to us for approval. "That is okay right coach, Mrs. M?"

"Of course it is Ange," my angel answered and took the concerned girl into her arms. "You’re family, we wouldn’t keep family away." Then she looked to where Scott was standing some distance from the injured girl. "You too Scott." With those three little words, Scott’s head snapped up and a grin split his face from ear to ear. Harley gave the young man a gentle shove.

"Go ahead sport, I think you’re needed over yonder." Scott stumbled rather ungracefully forward and almost fell flat on his face when he tripped over his own feet. Harley started to make some rude comment until I glared at him and he only cleared his throat instead.

"Syd are you okay? I was really worried. I mean…when…I…well…I heard you scream, and then…" Scott dropped his face in shame at the memory of his loss of control. "I coulda killed that bitch Syd. I wanted to for what she did to…I was so scared you…" Syd took pity on the stuttering young man. She took his hand in hers and brought their joined hands together and kissed his knuckles tenderly. I thought he was gonna pass out. I cleared my throat.

"Uh, Scott, we have to get Syd to the hospital, why don’t you come along in our Blazer with mom and dad." Harley’s eyebrows arched up instantly. He’s not as good at it as Becca is. Yeah, I know.

The end of Thanksgiving Conclusion (A). Finish reading part B.