~ Two Shorten The Road ~
by Irish
Copyright December, 2002

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Author notes and Disclaimers: See Part 1

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated at Irishred1855@cs.com.

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Part 2

A river of blood and hate surrounded her and pulled at her. She fought to reach the surface, finally breaking free and sputtering up blood, took in a great breath of air. The water swirled her around, forcing frantic movements as she flayed her arms wildly fighting against the swift current. It was hot and dark and every muscle in her body ached from the ravages of the river. A voice called to her, "You must be washed of your sins."

Then she heard another voice, a soft and gentle voice, calling to her. It was faint but filled her with hope and safety and she twisted her head searching for it. She felt a familiar touch around her hand and it began to pull her from the red darkness. She turned as her arm caught something white and it wrapped around her and pulled and she saw her own open-eyed face staring at pulling her under the red terror. The other hand gripped tightly refusing to let go. "Come on Bryg, I'm here, you're safe," it called and she held on for dear life and pulled.

The next thing she knew she was hanging over the bed vomiting in the trash can. Someone was holding her across the front and back. After nothing else would come up she laid back, chest burning, struggling for breath and coughing. "Easy, just relax," the voice gently wiped her face, "it's me Tress, do you want me to get you medicine?"

She opened her eyes and saw Tress, "Nnnn…ooo, I'm f…ine."

"Then just lay back," Tress said wiping her face, "you're safe now," she repeated.

"Ddd…on't l…leave," she managed between coughs, gasps and sputters.

"I'm not going anywhere."

After a few moments Bryg settled down. She looked up at Tress as she finishing wiping her face, "Ss…," she tightened her eyes, "sorry," she finished.

"Nothing to be sorry for. Can you talk about it?"

"There was a river, a riv..er," she concentrated and pushed the words out, "it was red, blood, I…I," she halted, seemingly confused, her words slurred, "and then, and then," her eyes became glassy and rolled back in her head until all Tress could see were white. "Oh God," they both moaned as if on cue and Bryg moved her hand up to her head, her face grimaced in pain, her body stiffened for a moment, her back arched, then her body suddenly relaxed and she began to pant slowly at first then faster as if she couldn't get enough air in and out of her lungs quick enough.

"Shit," Tress yelled. By the time Tress had reacted to it, it was over and Bryg's breathing had slowed to normal but her face was pale and covered with a thin sheen of sweat, her eyes fluttered open a crack then shut tight. "Bryg," Tress said firmly as she gently held her face, "can you hear me?"

Bryg nodded, eyes still closed.

"I need you to open your eyes," Tress said.

"The lights, bright," she managed to get out.

Tress reached over and flipped the switch. "Headache?" she asked, somehow knowing the answer and reaching for the Imitrex and Bryg moaned, "Uh huh."

Tress squeezed two squirts up each nostril. After a few moments Bryg opened her eyes, "Better?"

"Almost gone," she stirred trying to push up. "No," Tress said putting her hand on her shoulder, "just rest."

"No, I'mmm," she took a deep breath, "I'm tired of resting. I need to tell," she never finished the sentence for Tress interrupted her, "Bryg." She turned her eyes to her as Tress asked, "do you trust me?"

"Yes," she answered simply and without hesitation.

"I promise we'll find our what happened to your sister, but not with you like this. Get some sleep, build up your strength and later when you wake up I promise we'll work on it, you're not alone in this anymore Bryg, I'm with you."

"Prom…ise," she said sleepily, eyes droopy.

"Promise," Tress said holding up her pinkie and looping in around Bryg's slightly pulling and the tingling that followed the necklace and warmed the pendants had left a slight echo in her chest.

Bryg's half-opened eyes questioned her action. "A family tradition," was what she thought she heard Tress say as the darkness pulled her into a peaceful sleep.

The sun broke through the curtains in the bedroom the shaft of light settling on Byrg's face. She scrunched her nose and tightened her eyes against the intrusion. She moved her hand up to cover her face from the light, but it wouldn't leave her alone, the heat warming her face and hand. She blinked several times, turned her face and opened her eyes. Releasing her breath, she watched the fan circle above her for several moments. The bad taste in her mouth finally drove her from her bed. She stepped over the blanket and pillow but didn't see the copy of her book of Emily Dickinson and stubbed her left toes on it. "Damn," she said as she limped into the bathroom, "that's what I get for writing such heavy reading," she said chuckling at her own joke.

She brushed her teeth, finished her shower, then looking in the mirror and noticed small worry lines forming on her forehead and outsides of her eyes. Rubbing some moisturizer into her face she put extra on her forehead and around the eyes, then looked wide eyed at her reflection in the mirror and realized for the first time in six weeks she didn't have any dull throbbing or headache and she wasn't feeling drained and weary. Her eyes looked tired and puffy but the way her body felt didn't reflect that, it's as if she had 'turned a corner'. She grinned as she thought about that term, one from Emily Dickinson's time that was used to describe someone who was past an illness and on the road to recovery.

She ran some mousse through her deep red hair and gelled the ends, put on some foundation and opened the bathroom door to the smell of eggs and bacon, again.

Tress looked up from reading USA Today at the dining room table as Bryg walked into the room. "Hey," she said, "I see you're up. I ran over to the office and got a paper, everything all right?"

"Everything's great," Bryg responded smiling, "eggs and bacon?"

Tress nodded, "The plates are in there on the counter, help yourself."

Bryg turned into the kitchen and sat at the table with a plate full of corned beef hash topped with eggs over easy, shredded potatoes, biscuits and gravy.

Tress raised her eyebrows at the plate, "Hungry?" she said.

Bryg nodded, "I suddenly seem to be starving," Bryg replied around a mouthful of eggs, "can I see the Arts and Entertainment section?"

"Sure," Tress said, "that 'Ya Ya Sisterhood' movie is at the cinema on the island, maybe we could go see it this week."

"I…," Bryg started to make an excuse, 'I don't go to movies', I don't like movies', 'I don't', but instead looked at Tress, swallowed a mixture of eggs and corned beef hash and said, "this week?"

Tress turned the page on the paper, "I called my office, gave them everything you told me and assigned my best investigators. In the meantime all we can do is wait." She watched Bryg's eyes and held up her hand, "I know you've done a lot of that lately but believe me this time we will find an answer, Karen will call me every night with updates."

"Your friend," Bryg said.

Tress nodded, "And executive assistant although she can run the business better than me and oftentimes reminds me of that fact. Karen has great business sense and takes care of the details while I tend to look at the whole picture. She and her husband Paul are like family, in fact he's my best investigator and is the lead on your case."

Bryg smiled, "I envy you Tress, I wish I had a friend like that."

Tress laughed, "Sometimes I have to remind myself of that when she's arguing with me about budget or my giving away services for free. I'm always reminding her that I already have a mother, but she's stuck by me and helped make the business what it is today and I wouldn't give her or her friendship up for anything. She'll probably yell at me because I told Paul to spare no expense in his investigation."

"I'll pay you Tress, whatever the cost," Bryg said adamantly.

Tress pointed to a quarter on the table and smiled, "You already did."

"Then as long as we have some time, I'd like to see that 'sisterhood' movie after I get some new clothes."

Tress grinned, "Deal," she paused, "but first we have to go to Fort Myers for your MRI."

Bryg squawked, "MRI? W…who set that up? I'm f…fine."

Tress put the paper down and leaned forward, elbows on the table, "Bryg, you've had at least one major seizure and a second smaller one in the last 24 hours. I called my dad and he contacted Dr. Bayless and they both agreed on a MRI, just to make sure you're all right."

"You did that?" Bryg said taken aback.

"I was worried after the one this morning so I called my dad. He asked who your doctor was and called her, then called me back. I'm afraid you're dealing with some action oriented people, and I don't mean to interfere or make decisions for you but if we're going to find your sister I need you physically and mentally healthy."

Bryg looked at her for a few moments then nodded in agreement, "What time do we need to be there?"

"In an hour, we need to leave in 20 minutes."

"Let me get my bag," she stood and walked into the back room. Tress went into the other bedroom and got her purse. Checking the nine-shot nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson to make sure the safety was on, she put it in her purse, turned and saw Bryg standing in the hall with her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Do you think we'll need that?" Bryg asked.

"I hope not but it pays to be prepared," Tress said put it in her purse and smiled, "come on in, I need to turn off the computer."

Bryg walked into the room and saw a daybed, a dresser with a TV/VCR/DVD combination on it, a nightstand and a corner desk with a computer, a 17 inch flat screen monitor, a printer, fax, cell phone and a Palm both in their chargers. "Pretty high tech, huh," Tress said almost apologetic.

"Yeah," Bryg said, "this is a great system."

"I guess, Karen picked it out, it's easy enough for me to turn it on, get on the internet, check my e-mail and play games, anything else I have to call her on the phone to take me through step-by-step, I'm afraid I'm not much for technology."

Bryg walked over to look at it. "You can use it if you want," Tress said, "to check your e-mail or write." Bryg touched the Palm.

"You can it out of the charger if you want, it's easy see," Tress pulled it forward and upwards, "Karen insisted I get it so I can have my schedule with me at all times and be in touch in case I'm without a phone. You can connect to the internet with it but I usually use it to play games." She put it in the leather holder sitting on the desk, turned it on and the scrabble game popped up on the screen. "You use this," and she reached behind and pulled out the stylus, "to place the letters," and showed Bryg how to do it, "there's also a game card in it and I have a road map card in the case."

"I've thought about getting one, I just didn't know if I'd use it or not."

"You'd probably use it more than me. Here," she used the stylus to touch a spot on the top, "it comes with a word processing program and you can download Word documents onto it and e-books. You can even make new Word documents on it," she said as she touched 'New', touched 'OK' and a blank screen appeared with a flashing cursor at the top. "You can use the space here and stylus to form the letters or you can use the pop-up keyboard," she explained and took her through the functions step by step, "I even have a small thumbpad here somewhere," she searched through the drawers, "here it is, you can connect it, activate it using the icon," she showed her, "then use that to type, it's easier than using the stylus if you have to write more than a few words. Then," she reconnected it to the cradle, "when you have everything the way you want it you download the information into the computer and you have it in both places," she clicked on the 'Palm Desktop' icon on the computer and showed her the program and how to do the 'hot sync'. "Just make sure the thumbpad is inactive when you 'hot sync'. You can review your work, change it, and even print it out from the computer."

"Neat," Bryg said and she played around writing letters on the space at the bottom.

Tress grabbed a business card and a pen and wrote something on the back. "Here's my password for the internet, it's the same for my computer and palm, and my cell phone number. Do you have one?"

"What?" Bryg questioned.

"A cell phone," Tress said taking hers out of the charger and attaching it to her waistband.

"At home," Bryg replied, "I left so fast I forgot to bring it."

"We have extra at the office, I'll call Karen and have her FedEx one to us." Bryg started to protest but Tress held up her hand, "You'll need one while we're investigating and besides it helps with my tax deductions."

Bryg started to hand the Palm back and Tress stopped her, "Bring it with us and use it a little, if you like it we can get you one," Tress said as she shut down the computer.

"I need to call Pete before we leave, just to let him know where I'm at and that I've hired your firm to help, he may want to let that other firm go," Bryg said, "it will only take a minute."

"Probably a good idea, too many cooks and all," Tress replied.

They drove over the causeway, the wind blowing in their hair and the sun heating up their head and backs. Tress had the top down on her 2002 Sebring convertible, it was champagne with a black top and black leather interior and Bryg was having a great time. Tress glanced at her, "Did you get Pete?"

Bryg raised her voice over the wind, "Yeah, I told him and he's going to let the other firm go, I said I'd call every couple of days just to keep him informed, I gave him your e-mail address if that's all right."
"Sure," Tress answered as they waited on the causeway for the drawbridge to lower. "This is great," Bryg said excited, "I've always wanted to try one of these, where I live the Explorer is much more practical but if I lived here I'd have this kind of car."

"It's a fun ride," Tress replied, "When we get back we'll call and have the rental agency pick up your car. You won't need it, you can use this if you want to, I have an extra key at the condo."

Bryg stared out at the bay and the boats. Pelicans and gulls drifted above on the wind and every once in awhile a pelican would dive into the water headfirst. "I'd forgotten how beautiful this is," Bryg said as she opened her bag, took out a pen, journal and camera and took a picture of a pelican as it rode the wind along the rail of the causeway.

"You always carry that with you?" Tress asked.

"Always," Bryg replied, "I also have a small digital tape recorder, story ideas crop up at the weirdest times."

They drove down the palm-tree lined McGregor Boulevard of Fort Myers on the way to their appointment. Bryg looked at the plants and trees behind the walls of the Edison-Ford home and her eyes widened in awe. "Have you ever seen it?" Tress asked as they past the entrance. "No," Bryg said, "I'd like to, I love plants, trees and flowers."

"Then we'll have to go before we leave," Tress said, "it's one of the most complete tropical botanical gardens in the U.S. It has more than one thousand varieties of plants from all over the world, including an African sausage tree and a Banyan tree that's over 400 feet. Edison was interested in the products of the plants and used them in his scientific projects. There's also a the winter homes of Edison and Henry Ford, a museum, laboratory, and they even have an electric launch that travels up the river. Hey, I've never done that maybe we could go, what do you think?"

Bryg laughed out loud, "You sound like a tour guide. How many times have you been?"

"This would be my sixth time," Tress admitted, "but I don't mind going, I really like it."

"I figured," Bryg answered, "OK, it's a plan then."

They reached the Southern Florida Open MRI office with five minutes to spare. As they walked in the door the nurse jumped up and said, "Ms. Morgan, we've been expecting you," and turning to Bryg, "and you must be Ms. Dickinson." Bryg raised her brows at Tress who ignored her. "Please come this way," the nurse continued. They followed her down a short hallway and into a room with a table in the middle and a large white machine surrounding it. "If you'll come in here Ms. Dickinson, we'll need you to look over these papers and sign at the bottom, then put this gown on and lie on the table," the nurse said then turned to Tress, "would you like to stay Ms. Morgan?"

Tress glanced at Bryg who nodded and she nodded at the nurse who left to go get the technician. "Ms. Dickinson?" Bryg said as she read over the paperwork and signed at the marked places. "I couldn't take the chance they'd know you, it's the first thing I thought of since I stayed up half the night reading your book. It really is good Bryg."

"Thanks, then on the next printing of the book I'll put that my friend Tress said, 'it really is good'. I'm sure that will be the truest review of them all."

"Friendship?" Tress asked.

"Yes," Bryg replied.

"Dickens?" they both said in unison.

"I thought you said he was hard to read," Bryg said.

"Actually I read it on a Hallmark card with Winnie the Pooh and Piglet," Tress grinned.

As the technician walked in a few minutes later and saw the two women wiping away tears he assumed it was because of the nature of the test and not because of Dickens and Pooh.

Bryg lay on the table, perfectly still while the white machine's insides whirled noisily around her. She didn't know why they called it an, 'open' MRI, she still had to be pushed into the tube and although it was open on the sides, it was just inches from her face. Even with the headphones on and Loreena McKinnett, a musical taste she developed in the last day, directly in her ears, she could still hear the noise and felt closed in. She tried to force the panic down and suddenly felt warmth on her ankle. Tress seeing the signs of panic placed her hand on Bryg's ankle and it calmed her enough to finish the test.

As the technician went to develop the prints to see if they were had all come out, Bryg looked at Tress and asked, "how did we get in here so soon, they seem really busy?"

"Pays to know the owner," Tress replied.

"Your dad?" Bryg asked.

"He's part owner, my sister's the other," Tress said.

"Your sister's a doctor too?" Bryg asked.

"A neurologist actually," Tress said, "my brothers are fraternal twins and in college, my brother-in-law Mike is the prosecuting attorney in Naples and he and Lauren have a girl and boy, Mike Jr. although we call him Mikey and Lisa."

The technician returned, "the pictures look good, we're finished here."

"How long before the results?" Bryg asked.

"The radiologist will read them as soon as possible and contact Dr. Morgan and Dr. Harris this afternoon," the technician replied.

"Thank you," Bryg said politely.

"My pleasure, Ms. Dickinson, Ms. Morgan have a good day," he responded as he left the room so Bryg could get dressed.

Bryg looked at Tress with pursed lips and shook her head at the choice of name, then closed the door to the bathroom to get dressed. Tress pulled out her cell phone and called her father, "Hi dad, she just finished, can you get the results as soon as possible."

"No problem," her father answered, "I'll call and have Dennis review them then fax the results to me."

"Thanks dad," Tress said.

"Is this a friend, Tress?" her father asked.

"Yes," Tress replied without hesitation.

"Good, bring her around for dinner on Sunday, we'll be back in town by then, we'd like to meet her and I won't tell your mother her name, let's surprise her, she's a big fan you know."

"You know mom doesn't like to be kept in the dark," Tress said.

"But it's so few times that we can get away with it," her father replied.

"She'll never let us forget it," Tress said, "and will find a way to get back at us."

A moment passed and they both said at the same time, "Then lets do it," with laughter filling the phone from both ends.

"Call my cell phone, we'll be out shopping, talk to you later, love ya," Tress said.

"You too sweetheart, take care," her father said and disconnected the call.

Bryg came out of the room still dressed in her sister's clothes. "Shopping?" she said looking down at her outfit.

"Shopping," Tress repeated.


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Reaching the parking lot Tress turned to Bryg, "You want to drive?"

"Can I Tress?" Bryg said.

"Sure, you'll need to get used to it since we'll be getting rid of your rental car today. Here," and she threw her the keys.

Bryg sat in the driver's side and readjusted the seat. "Ready," she said turning on the engine.

"Uh, Bryg," Tress asked, "you're not Speed Racer are you?"

"Nope," Bryg said, "but if I am that'd make you Chim Chim." Bryg started laughing picturing that in her mind.

"Very funny," Tress said chuckling herself.

Twenty minutes later Tress indicated she should turn and they pulled into the Bell Tower Shops.

"Should we put the top up?" Bryg asked.

"Nah, it doesn't look like rain, just lock the glove box."

They went into several stores and Bryg bought five pairs of Docker shorts, two pairs of long khakis, a skirt and blouse, some tropical print shirts, a few polo shirts, dress shoes, nylons and socks. They also bought some bath soaps and makeup. Walking by the bookstore she saw a display of her books in a cardboard bookstand and a notice next to it, "coming next week, a new Bryg O'Malley biography and winner of the Pulitzer Prize, 'Libbie and Autie'."

"Hey look," Tress whispered bumping her with her elbow, "your book."

"Yeah, the advances look good, don't they," Bryg replied looked to Tress for approval.

"Your picture would look better," Tress said.

"I never use my picture, even in the books," Bryg said looking down.

"You should," Tress said absently as she opened the book, eyes wide, "Good thing I already have a copy," she said looking at her, "you're expensive."

"Yeah, but I'm worth it," Bryg said.

"I don't know," Tress replied, "Emily was good but I think it needed a little more action and suspense, I'm reserving my judgment until I read the next one."

"I'll make a note that my friend Tress, the book critic, needs more action and suspense in what she reads," she raised her eyebrows at her, "in that case I would recommend that you read this one," she pointed to the poster palm up as if offering it to her, "I'm sure it will meet your requirements," Bryg said continuing her sales pitch, "and," she lowered her voice and looked around to see if anyone were listening "as an extra bonus at no additional cost," her eyes opened wide, brows raised, "there's blood, murder, massacre, pillage, plunder, mayhem and," her voice softened to a whisper and she moved her head closer to Tress as if in a conspiracy together, "wild sex."

"Wild sex huh," Tress whispered back and straightened her head looking at the poster. "You know if you put that up there it'd be sold out in minutes," she grinned.

Bryg chuckled, "You're probably right."

"Bryg," Tress asked as they continued down the mall, "do you ever sign any of your books?"

"Only for special friends," Bryg said.

"Would my mother qualify because you're her favorite author and we're supposed to go there for dinner Sunday and she's got all your books and she'll want you so sign them and she'll be mad at me if you don't and I don't want her to be mad at me," Tress cringed slightly as she blurted it all out in one sentence.

Bryg didn't say anything, just watched the floor as she walked.

"That's OK, if you don't want to go I can make up an excuse," Tress didn't finish the sentence before Bryg interrupted, "N…no, I'd like to meet your parents, I feel like I already know them, besides I'd n…never turn down the opportunity to meet my biggest fan, maybe she'll influence her daughter, especially if I autograph her copies."

"She always does," Tress replied.

On the way back they stopped at Tanger Outlet Mall and Bryg bought a swimsuit, cotton socks, bras, panties and a pair of Reeboks.

"I think I need some tank tops, cotton shorts and sandals, I forgot about them," Bryg remarked.

"I know just the place, we can also get dinner and some groceries and they have the best Key Lime pie on the island."

"Sounds great," Bryg replied putting her packages in the trunk.

A little while later they pulled up in front of Jerry's Foods. "This is the place?" Bryg asked.

"Yep, there's a full service grocery store, it's the closest to the condo, the other one is one the other end of the island, and some shops that have all sorts of Sanibel clothing and stuff. I love this place, there's even birds in the courtyard and they talk to you, come on, let's go," Tress said as excited as a young kid.

An hour later Bryg walked out of the Sanibel Surf Shop with a bag of tanks, shirts, matching shorts, cup holders, sandals and seashells. "Your right Tress, that was great, did you see all that stuff, I'll have to come back and get those mermaids and get a painted picture of Sanibel like the one in your room."

"I'll call the artist that painted mine, I'm sure we can get another."

"Great," Bryg said.

"Lets put this stuff in the car and we'll go eat and get some groceries. Wait till you see how they deliver them to your car, it's cool."

They ate at the restaurant in Jerry's and Bryg was surprised at how good the food was. Afterwards they bought a Key Lime pie, which at nine dollars Bryg thought was expensive but Tress assured her it was worth it. They picked out lunchmeat, snacks, steaks, ice cream, milk and of course coffee creamer. Tress paid for it with her charge card and the attendant put the bags in a large gray container, gave Tress a number and put the container on a conveyer belt than went down below the store. Bryg looked at her and Tress answered her unasked question, "We drive around and they load it in the car for us."

As they walked out Bryg grabbed free books and flyers about Sanibel, "for coupons," she insisted, and they stopped for a few moments talking to the toucan before walking to the car. After driving around and getting the groceries Tress asked if she wanted some ice cream.

"Sure," Bryg said and they drove down Periwinkle Way toward what Tress called Old Sanibel.

As they passed a nature spot, Tress said, "Sometimes you can see alligator in there."

"Really," Bryg said and she watched it pass by her through the window.

"Yeah, maybe we could check it out tomorrow and go up to the Darling Wildlife Refuge," Tress replied.

"You know Tress, I a…apre…ciate everything you've done, but maybe I should get a hotel r…r…oom."

For some reason that Tress couldn't explain her blood ran cold and she thought for a moment she'd stopped breathing, "a hotel room", she repeated to herself as she went through the stop sign after being waved on by the policeman directing traffic.

"To s…stay in. I…I d…don't want to put you out while you're h…here for a vacation. I c…c...could get a room up the street at the Hol…iday Inn."

Tress didn't answer but knew Bryg was very nervous by the way she was stammering and Bryg was sure that meant she agreed so she remained quiet and watched what passed by the window.

Tress turned down a gravel road across from Pandora's Kloset and drove till it ended at what the sign said was the Sanibel Marina. It was small only about twenty boats, some pretty big, and a screened-in restaurant with ceiling fans called Gramma Dot's. Tress opened the door, raised her eyebrows and asked with her expression for Bryg to follow. They walked down the wooden dock until they reached the end and Tress held her forefinger in front of her lips indicating that they be quiet. She pointed off the dock and Bryg looked over the side and saw an osprey nest with almost grown chicks. Bryg started to ask something and Tress pointed to a picnic bench. Tress sat down on one side while Bryg sat on the other, "the nest looks man-made." Tress nodded, "most of them on Sanibel are, the folks are very conservation oriented and supportive of their natives." Tress asked if she wanted a Coke, Bryg nodded and she excused herself, went into the restaurant and returned with two sodas.

"You know," Tress finally said, "I never was into boats, I love the water but I love watching it, not being in it or on it."

"I k…know what you m…mean," Bryg said taking a sip of Coke, "at my house I can s…sit on the porch for hours j…just watching the w..water."

Tress nodded, "I bought the condo after Matt died, partly in an attempt to seclude myself from the world, the one place I know I could go, curl up and hide away," she played with the straw moving it up and down in the cup, "I avoid visitors when I'm here in what my family calls my cocoon mode."

"I un….under…st…and," Bryg said.

Tress smiled slightly turning up the ends of her mouth, leaned with her elbows forward on the table, looked down then back up at her friend, "No, just listen, I want you to know this because I'm not worried about you bothering me, I'm worried about me bothering you."

Bryg's look questioned her. "I know this is new for you and me, two people who are very protective of their privacy and neither of us being used to having people around us all the time, and you're having weird dreams and your emotions are on edge, but I have this feeling," she put her palms out on either side of her cup, "I can't explain it, but it's important," she took a deep breathe, "that we stay together." She paused to sip her soda while looking up at Bryg under hooded eyes. Straightening up she put her hands around the cup and focused on her eyes, "Don't stay at the Holiday Inn or anywhere else, stay with me."

"B…but your pri…privacy," Bryg replied.

"I'm willing to forgo mine if you want to give it a try," Tress said, "besides rules, particularly mine, were meant to be broken especially if I'm the one breaking them, as my father would be quite willing to attest to, and don't forget I'll be invading your privacy as much as you'll be invading mine, quid pro quo."

Bryg smiled and just then the sun hit her face and her eyes seemed to glow from within, "I hope you only have Hannibal's vocabulary and not his tastes nor his appetite."

"I appreciate brains, but don't eat them," Tress said smiling back.

"Yuck," Bryg replied, "I closed my eyes at that part."

"What do you mean, that was the coolest part of the whole movie. You know my sister says that could really happen, you should have seen it with her, it was almost like a mutual admiration society," they both laughed and Tress lifted her cup up for a toast, "to friendship."

"Friendship," Bryg answered as she tapped her soda cup against Tress' and they both took a sip.

"And if I get in the way you'll tell me," Bryg asked.

"Don't worry, I'm good about telling people that they're in my way," Tress smiled, then waited a few moments, "well," she breathed out relieved, "now that that's settled let's get some real ice cream."

They got back in the car and drove back down the road. At Periwinkle Way they made a left then a quick right into a gravel lot and pulled in front of a small wooden storefront called Pinnocchio's. "This is cute," Bryg said looking at the wooden walkway that connected the four stores in the mall called 'Sea Horse Shops'. "This is Old Town Sanibel, the original town, dating back to a small colony founded in the 1830's and by the time the lighthouse was built it was a cattle shipping point. By the1920's, Sanibel was becoming known for its fishing, beaches, shelling and wildlife so Bailey's, a local grocery store, started the first ferry service and as the guests were dropped off at the pier they walked up into a small village of shops, a grocery store, teahouse and guest cottages. The cottages around here have all been modernized and although the original village is gone a few buildings have been recreated at the Sanibel Historical Museum. When the causeway was built in 1963, Bailey's relocated to a bigger building on the other end of the island near the entrance to Captiva." Tress pointed toward storefront, "The Lighthouse Café has great breakfasts and is literally packed in the mornings. Rosie's Deli has sodas and snacks and lunchmeat. Tuttles is a small gift shop with an atmosphere all it's own and some unique items and the Sporty Seahorse has Sanibel stuff along with shoes and brand name label clothes like Nautica and Tommy Bahama. The only thing about most of the shops except the ones at Jerry's and the shops at Periwinkle Place are that they close by six. We can come back tomorrow and hit these and some of the other shops toward Captiva."

"Great," said Bryg, "but first ice cream."

The day had cooled and Bryg rubbed her arms together after eating two scoops of the Chocolate Fudge. "Cold," Tress asked. "A little," she said. "Here," Tress pulled a lightweight, black jacket from the back and Bryg put it on, noticing it said 'Morgan Investigations' in dark gold letters on the front. "Thanks Tress," Bryg said. "Keep it," Tress replied pulling the car across the street, "I have plenty, being the boss has its perks," she smiled, "lets get a movie."

They walked into the small video store, picked out Dragonfly with Kevin Costner, and then headed back to the condo, about a five-minute drive. Tress carried the groceries and gave Bryg the movie and key lime pie which she said they couldn't take a chance on dropping that being so expensive and all. Bryg made a face at her. After a second trip to the car they had everything in and Bryg was hanging up her clothes and removing tags.

Tress put the groceries away and started a pot of coffee and her cell phone rang. It was her father telling her he'd conferenced with Dr. Bayless and the results of the test were unchanged from the last one at Mayo but she recommended and he agreed to increase the dosage another10 milligrams three times a day. "That's great dad, thanks." "I called in the new prescription to Rexall and Dr. Bayless authorized a refill on the Xanax, but she said to make sure she takes it as prescribed, if there's a concern call." "No problem, dad, that's great we'll pick it up later, love ya."

"Hey Bryg," she yelled. "What?" Bryg yelled back. "Your head results are normal," Tress said. "Really," Bryg said as she came around the corner. "Yep, all the nuts and bolts are still there, they just want to increase the dosage, we'll have to pick it up tomorrow," Tress said smiling, "oh, and Dr. Bayless authorized a refill on the Xanax, just take it easy on the dosage this time."

Tress nodded, "Coffee?"

"Sure," Bryg said, "and pie."

She put the coffee and pie on a tray and set it down on the coffee table and picked up the remote, "Ready," she said. "Yep," Bryg answered.

The movie was about a doctor, played by Kevin Costner, whose very pregnant wife had went to South American to provide medical help to native villages and according to witnesses had died in a bus that had been caught in a flash flood. The other bodies had been found, except hers. Kevin Costner's character was convinced that he was receiving messages from her beyond death and was trying to figure them out. No one believed him and told him to move on but he couldn't until he found out what happened to her body and went to South America. At first Bryg thought maybe she really wasn't dead, that they had such a strong bond between each other that she was trying to contact him to come save her, but then at the end she realized that she was and it was a different message she was sending.

Bryg wept in sadness then in happiness at the end of the movie and Tress too had teared up and wiped her eyes. Bryg excused herself to go get a Kleenex and when she hadn't returned even after the movie had rewound, Tress went looking for her. She found her sitting on the bed in her room, staring at the wall.

"Uh uh," Tress thought to herself, "maybe this wasn't such a good movie choice." "Can I come in," Tress said knocking softly on the doorframe. Bryg turned to look up and her, tears still dripping down her face. "Do you think she's dead Tress?" Bryg asked in a soft voice, "do you think she's dead like the woman in the movie and she's trying to contact me from the grave to tell me something."

"What do you think?" Tress said gently sitting down beside her, "your minds too active, ignore the movie, just concentrate on what you feel, deep inside, let your instincts and heart lead you."

Bryg laid her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, relaxed her body and concentrated. Tress stood and started to leave the room but as she got to the door she heard Bryg's voice whisper, "she's alive." Tress turned to her and Bryg looked up and in a voice that relayed strength and confidence she repeated, "she's alive."

Tress smiled back, "Good don't ever doubt yourself Bryg. I'm not saying that this will be easy, on the contrary it will probably be the hardest thing you've ever done and you'll need all the courage and commitment you have," she paused, "but the one good thing is you don't have to do it alone."

The next four days were a flurry of activity. They went to the Sea Horse Shops, Periwinkle Place, and the many other small shopping areas on Sanibel as well as Captiva. They took the narrated tram tour through the J.N. "Ding" Darling Wildlife Refuge. "The island has a history of conservation," the narrator said, "over half of Sanibel and Captiva's acreage is owned by a conservation agency, preservation and protection of the natural resources is the island's highest priority and it's strongest asset." Tress whispered to her, "In other words it brings tourists and tourists bring money." "Ahhh," Bryg replied twisting her camera lens to replace it with a zoom lens.

It was early in the morning, the tide was high but at the refuge the water low since it was on the other side of the island. Thousands and many varieties of birds, bright pink spoonbills, brown pelicans, herons, egrets including the reddish egret, white ibises, terns, and black skimmers, red hawks and even a bald eagle were feeding, diving, flying and swimming.

Bryg's shutter went into overtime as she focused, twisted and clicked going through four rolls of film also getting shots of alligators, otters, and turtles. An older couple even took a few pictures of the two of them on the boardwalk. Friday they went to the Edison/Ford Home and Tress took her on the tour through Seminole Lodge, Edison's home, and "Mangoes," Ford's home. Bryg delighted in the Banyan tree and the tropical gardens and must have gone through another two rolls of film. They also took a boat ride up the Caloosahatchee River on "The Reliance" just as the Edisons and Fords did almost 100 years ago.

They ate out every afternoon and evening, McT's Shrimp House, the Hungry Heron, "the best crab legs in southwest Florida", Tress said, Cheeburger, Cheeburger, where Bryg bought a shirt, Gilligans and ended with desserts at Diary Queen or Pinnocchio's. On Friday night, since they were in Fort Myers, they went to The Bridge, named because it's under the bridge to Fort Myers, ate overlooking the ocean and the bay and after dinner went down to listen to the live music in the bar downstairs. It was open to the water and they ordered Cokes while listening to the lone guitarist sing. They both talked quietly relaxed by the soft sounds of the guitar and then he started to play the Carole King standard 'You've Got A Friend'. The song caught their attention and Tress started to sing softly along with him and noticed Bryg doing the same. When he was done they looked at each other, smiled slightly and raised their glasses in a silent toast. When he began to sing an acoustic version of 'Brick House' they began laughing and left. Tress drove down to Fort Myers Beach and they walked through the boardwalk shops then out to the end of the pier to watch the sunset.

Saturday they rented scooters and rode all over the island stopping for lunch at the Near East End Deli. They visited the Sanibel Historical Village and Museum and learned that Sanibel and Captiva had been inhabited as early as 500 B.C.E. and was founded by Ponce de Leon in 1513 who discovered the unfriendly Calusa Indians living there. In the 1800's Cuban fisherman established fishing camps on the island and in 1892 a permanent settlement was built with its first schoolhouse. After they returned the scooters they went back to the condo, showered and dressed to go to the Bubble Room. "We have to get there early," Tress said, "to get a spot, it gets crowded fast." When they pulled into the small parking lot it was already filled and they had to wait outside sitting at a concrete table with an umbrella. A waitress soon showed up and took some drink orders. While they waited they talked with a couple with a toddler from New Orleans. Soon their names were called and they went inside. Bryg just stood looking. Everything and anything you can imagine was hanging on the wall, there was no theme and no consistency in what went up. The hostess led them up some narrow steps to the upstairs, where a train ran around the inside of the ceiling. The tables had newspapers and reading material under clear, heavy polyurethane. "This is different," Bryg said. "It's a must eat spot for tourists although they can really only afford it once, it's pretty expensive, but wait till you see the deserts."

They compromised on an order and even though they split it they still had some left to be boxed up and taken home. Bryg ordered red velvet cake and her eyes opened wide when she saw what she would consider almost a quarter of a cake sitting in front of her. "This is a slice?" she asked Tress. "I told you they were big," she said taking a bite of it.

Sunday they slept late. Tress noticed that Bryg hadn't had a nightmare, migraine or seizure in the last four days. "Maybe if she keeps busy," Tress said. She turned on the computer and checked her e-mail. There was a new one from Karen, since last night. It said that they were ready to review their findings and could she make it to a meeting Monday morning at 10:00. Tress e-mailed back that they would be there.

After Bryg woke up she told her of what Karen had wrote and they both agreed that although they didn't want to leave yet it would be a good idea to move to Tress' house in Naples this afternoon since they'd be going down later to have dinner with her parents. They could stay at her house that night and go to the meeting tomorrow. I would save a drive back and forth, besides if her staff was ready to meet, that meant there was something important to share and if it was that important, they might not be able to make it back anyway and Tress assured her that after this was all over, they were due a long vacation.


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

They packed and loaded the car. Tress assured Bryg that the cleaning service would take care of the rest and it would be just as it is when they got back, only clean. Tress locked the door and they headed south toward Naples. "We'll drop the stuff off at my house, get settled, then go to my mom and dad's, they don't live that far."

"Al….all right," Bryg said.

"Damn," Tress thought, "she's nervous, she was fine at Sanibel."

"Bryg, don't be nervous. I know it's something new, but I'm here with you, besides there's lots of stuff we can do there too and I promise my mom is just like me only older except don't mention I said that."

Bryg laughed, "OK," she said a little more relaxed.

"Here," Tress said reaching across the front seat, "I bought this for you." She handed her a two-inch diameter piece of green stone with an off-center hole in it. Bryg turned it over in her hand feeling some comfort in its smooth surface. "It's called a "an cloc cosanta" an Irish luck stone. It's made in Ireland from connamara marble, any stone with a hole in it was considered lucky by the ancient Celts, they either wore it around their necks or carried it in their pockets or if in their homes hung it over their beds. It protected them in battle and from evil spirits because when someone gave you the evil eye you would look back at them through it and it would take the harm away and give it back to them. When you rub it it's supposed to have a calming effect."

Bryg rubbed it between her thumb and fingers and Tress was right she did feel calmer.

"Th…anks Tress, it does fe…el better," Bryg said.

They followed Highway 41 south to Park Shore Drive and Tress turned left on Gulf Shore Boulevard and pulled into a gated community called Park Shore. Tress pressed the garage button and the door opened on an uncluttered two-car garage, with a bike hanging on the wall. Bryg helped her unload the car and followed her into a single level, first floor villa. It was three times as large as the condo at Sanibel and had cherry wood floors, three bedrooms and two and one-half baths. One of the bedrooms was an office so Tress grabbed Bryg's stuff first and led her to a bedroom across from hers and helped her with the bags, they had bought her a suitcase at the outlet mall since Bryg hadn't brought any with her. They then went back to the garage and got Tress' stuff and returned to her bedroom. It was huge with a sunken Jacuzzi bathtub. It was decorated modestly with sea-green drapes, a comforter and rugs to match. The living room was comfortable and had a 52-inch TV with all the stereo components to go along with it, DVD, VCR, surround sound. The dining room had a glass-enclosed balcony overlooking the bay that Tress told her was called Venetian Bay. "I have private beach access across the Boulevard but I don't use it except to take a walk, I'm not much for 'laying out'.

"Me neither," Bryg said, "but I'd like to walk over there if it's all right."

"I usually ride my bike," Tress said, "we can get you one and ride together how's that."

"Sure," Bryg said.

"If you need anything just let me know," Tress said, "I'm not used to having guests. I have a maid but she only comes once a week."

"Tress," Bryg said, "this place is great and on the water, why do you go to Sanibel?"

"Because this is my home and where I work. Sanibel is my get-a-way, where I relax and isolate myself, to recuperate and take it easy. I don't have any obligations while I'm at Sanibel but I do here, I have my family and my work. If I just laid around, went sightseeing everyday and out to eat every night while I was here I'd feel guilty."

"Oh," Bryg said sounding a little disappointed. She had gotten used to the slow paced life on Sanibel and was at ease and comfortable in her relationship with Tress and over the last four days had lost track of time and had been able to put the anxiety and pain of the last year in the back of her mind. She realized now that they were back to reality and business that they would probably have to act differently around each other now and that easy camaraderie might not be there as it was before.

Tress could tell by Bryg's voice exactly what she was thinking, "Bryg," she looked at her, "our friendship won't change just because were here, just like it wouldn't change if we went to your place in Michigan or Chicago. This is just a different place that's all, were still the same as we were at Sanibel."

Bryg smiled softly and glanced downward as if embarrassed, "I…I'm sorry, I just really had a great time there a…and."

Tress stopped her, "Take a deep breath and relax. We'll go have dinner with my parents, go to the meeting tomorrow and do some sight seeing. Naples has a great zoo, and I promise after all this is over, we'll go back to Sanibel, it's not going anywhere and neither am I, promise."

Bryg nodded, "I better change, how should I dress?"

"Very casual," Tress said over her shoulder pulling something out of her bag, "my mother knows I'm not one for dressing up unless I'm forced to, shorts and polo is OK."

As Bryg started to leave the room to go get dressed Tress called to her, "Bryg, would you mind if I set this up." It was the baby monitor. "I'd just feel better knowing that if you needed me it wouldn't take much to call," she said asking.

Bryg took it from her hand and Tress smiled her thanks.

The trip to the car seemed to take longer than the drive. "Did you take your meds?" Tress asked. "Yes," Bryg answered. "Do you have them with you in case?" Tress responded. "Yes," Bryg said again. "How many Xanax?" Tress asked. "Two and lets go, we'll be late."

They drove down Gulf Shore to Harbor and right on Crayton. "Do they live on the water?" Bryg asked.

"No, they have a view of the bay and a pool but they're more into golf and the country club than water sports," Tress said.

"You don't belong to the country club?" Bryg asked.

"I have a membership because of the business, but I don't go all that much. I'm a terrible golfer although I do like to drive the cart around," Tress smiled, "do you golf?"

"Never tried it," Bryg said.

"Then we'll put it on our list, you have to try something you've never done before."

"I already have," Bryg's mind said.

Within ten minutes they pulled up in front of a Mediterranean style home with palm trees and lining the circular drive. It was across from Moorings Bay with a view of the water and a private park. The front portico was held up by four small columns and Tress knocked then opened the door, "Knock, knock," she yelled, "We're here."

"In the living room," a man's voice yelled.

Bryg looked around the large home and followed Tress into a large room with big screen TV and all the electronics that went with it. A tall man, about 6' was behind a bar pouring a glass of wine. "Hi dad," Tress announced and went over to hug him. He came around the front and pulled her into a bear hug, "hello honey, wine?"

"Sure," Tress said taking a sip, "mmmm, Pouilly Fuisee, my favorite thanks dad and," she said turning to Bryg, "this is my friend Brygid O'Malley, you've already met the inside of her head," Tress smirked.

"Yes, and it's such a pretty head at that, inside and out," Patrick Morgan held out his hand and took Bryg's then put his other hand on top of hers and held them both in a warm embrace. "I hope my daughter's taking good care of you, if not let me know, we didn't raise her to act like she was born in a barn."

"N…mo, Mr. M…organ, Tress has been a p…perfect hostess." She mentally chastised herself for her stammering, "it..s a pl…easure t…too."

"It's Patrick, Mr. Morgan was my father," he said.

"Then it's B…bryg," she replied.

"Where's mom?" Tress said sipping her wine and handing Bryg a glass of Coke.

"In the kitchen making your favorite," Patrick said.

"Really, my favorite huh, chicken and dumplings?" Tress said her eyes lighting up.

"Yep," her dad said.

"Wait till you try these Bryg, no one makes chicken and dumplings like my mom, come on," she said taking Bryg's glass and her own and setting them on the bar, then turning to go into the kitchen she suddenly pulled up, "oh, wait, mom doesn't know it's you that's coming, I just told her a friend, I mean not you but a Pulitzer Prize winning you, I mean not that that makes you different, I mean…"

"Tress," Bryg laughed, "in…introduce me to your m…mom."

Tress followed by Bryg walked into the kitchen to see a woman about the same size as Tress putting a long strip of what looked like flour into a boiling pot. She looked up and Bryg could see that this was what Tress would look like in 25 years, same facial features, same color hair and eyes, nope, Tress' mother couldn't deny this one.

"Tress," her mother called lovingly smiling at Bryg, "come here and help me and introduce me to this lovely young woman."

"Mom," Tress said as she went around the center island and gave her a hug, noticing her dad leaning against the doorway, smiled and said, "this is Brygid O'Malley."

Gillian Morgan stopped stirring and looked at Bryg then her daughter, Tress took the spoon from her before she dropped it in the boiling water and started stirring, "Mom, shake hands with Brygid O'Malley."

"My Brygid O'Malley?" Gillian said to Tress wiping her hands on her apron.

"The same," Tress said taking pride in her friend.

Gillian looked back at Bryg then her eyes narrowed in on Tress, "The Pulitzer Prize winner, the one whose books are all on that shelf in the other room, the NY Times best seller, the same one who won the National Book Award, ALA Notable Book award, the National Critics Circle Award, the PEN Nonfiction Award, the one who made all the best book lists in People, Time, The New Yorker and Entertainment Weekly and the Oprah Book Club, the one I keep trying to get you to read, that Brygid O'Malley?" Her mother asked clearly overwhelmed.
"Well you seem to know all about her so I guess I don't need to tell you anymore," Tress smiled at her father.

"You are in so much trouble Tressa Katherine Morgan and you too Patrick Joseph, you knew she was coming and you have me meet her in my apron and in the kitchen, no less," she untied the apron and hit Tress with it, "keep stirring," she ordered.

"Ms. O'Malley," Gillian said holding out her hand, "it's such a pleasure, I've read all your books and can't wait for 'Libbie and Autie', and I must apologize for my daughter who appears to have the manners of a barn animal," she eyed Tress, "and I assure you she wasn't raised in one."

"B…bryg," Bryg said holding out her hand and feeling the same wave of comfort she felt from her daughter, "I a..ppreciate everything you said and how much you f…follow my career. It's a plea…sure to m…meet you too. Here," she handed her a package, "you d…don't have to wait for 'Libbie and Autie', I had John FedEx an advance c…copy for you."

"And contrary to popular opinion," Tress interjected seeming hurt, "I don't have barn animal manners anymore, I've read her book on Emily Dickinson."

"You read a book that wasn't a murder mystery?" Gillian said obviously impressed, "what did you think?"

Tress thought, "It was 'the novel that goes beyond Alfred Habegger's 'My Wars Are Laid Away In Books' and seemed to be written by a contemporary of Dickinson who knew her well'."

"You memorized the cover, you cheat, what did you really think of it?" Gillian said.

"Ac…tually, Mrs. M..organ," Bryg said, "she s…said it was good but ne…needed more action and suspense."

"Let me apologize for my daughter and say I thought it was the best so far and I'm Gillian by the way, Mrs. Morgan was my mother-in-law."

Patrick coughed as he entered the room and handing Tress her glass of wine he set Bryg's Coke on the counter. "I'm sorry to say I agree with Tress on this one, I read it too and she's right, it is a little short on action and suspense."

Gillian looked at her husband in astonishment, Tress looked with a satisfied grin on her face and Bryg chuckled, "Actually dad, I have good news. Bryg tells me this next one," and she nodded to the package in her mom's hand, "has blood, murder, massacre, pillage, plunder, mayhem and," her voice softened to a whisper, "wild sex."

Patrick looked at Gillian, who looked at Tress then all three looked at Bryg who shrugged, "W…what can I say, it's the tr…uth." What was wrong with her, she hated this stammer, these were Tress' parents, she felt Tress through them, calm down and relax, she clenched her fists and jaw tight.

"I think I'll read this one first," Patrick said as he walked around the counter to hand Bryg her drink and tried to grab the book.

"No way," Gillian said hugging the book and Bryg to her, "come on Bryg, I have lots of questions."

Tress watched Bryg intently to see how she would handle this, she should have warned her they were a hugging family. Bryg started to stiffen but Gillian pulled her into her and she instantly molded her body against her, reached around and hugged her back. Tress smiled and turned back to stirring the noodles.

Tress took a drink of her wine as her father stood next to her, "your friend's a delight, Tress, and seems to have won over your mother, I have to admit John told us much about her and we expected the stammering."

"Thanks for not making it an issue, Dad, when she feels more comfortable it gets better."

"It's one of the results from the brain injury she suffered last year," her dad said taking a sip of his wine as Tress looked up at him. "I talked with Gloria Bayless at Mayo at length and she told me more about her health and injuries."

Tress looked at him very interested. "Gloria told me it's a miracle she survived and I agree, your sister wants to meet her and write a paper," he said off-handedly as he looked over at Bryg who was deep in conference with his wife.

Tress' body stiffened, "Tell Lauren no way is she meeting her, she's not an experiment, she's my friend," she emphasized the last word as she stirred quicker and harder.

"Relax dear," he put his hand on her shoulder, "it's just a passing comment you know your sister would never mention anything like that when she meets her."

Tress quickly settled and nodded turning the heat down under the pot and under herself.

"She almost died Tress," her father said.

"But she didn't," Tress almost spat it out, not in anger but in fear.

"No," her father said, "Ashlyn was there to pull her through, to help her when they lost their parents, to find her when her brother placed her in that institution, to sit by her while she struggled for her life and to support her afterward."

Tress turned to him, "What are you saying dad?"

"John told me that Ashlyn was always the one Bryg turned to, her support. If Ashlyn is dead," he held his hand up, "don't look shocked, you're too good at your job not to have considered it, if she's dead there won't be anyone to pull her through this time."

"I'll be there," Tress said strongly meeting his eyes.

Patrick smiled at his strong willed, determined daughter, 'so much like her mother,' he thought and said to her, "that's my girl, see I knew you weren't raised in a barn," he kissed her on her temple, "hey you two," he called to his wife and Bryg, "these dumplings are done."

After dinner they left the dishes and had coffee in the library. Bryg was looking at her father's book collection. "Th…these are lovely," Bryg said reverently touching the leather spines. She came to one and as she touched it her breathing hitched, vision blurred and blackened to darkness.

"Bryg," Tress turned as soon as she felt the first heat of the pendants against her skin and before the tingling had reached the top of her spine. Her cup clattered on the table threatening to topple as her father caught a stiff and shaking Bryg in his arms and laid her gently on the carpet. The seizure was just like the first one at the condo, she was shaking uncontrollably her fists tightened and clenched. She moved to touch her, "Tress," her father warned, "let me handle this."

"Dad," Tress started to argue. "Tress," her father repeated keeping his eye on the clock. "It's been almost a minute," Tress said. "Tress," her father said again more annoyed this time.

"Dad," her voice rose. "Gill, get your daughter," her father looked to Gillian. "Tress," Gillian said. Tress ignored her and watched Bryg and saw her slowing her movements. "Tressa Katherine Morgan," she said more forcefully, "get your butt in that kitchen, now," her finger pointing in that direction. Tress looked at her friend, then her father, her mother, stood and walked into the kitchen with her mother close behind her.

"She'll need some real coffee and we have a rule in this house, only one doctor at a time can work on a patient, she'll need you later, let your father do his job." Tress nodded and anxiously watched the door while she helped her mother go through the motions to make coffee. "She was fine, what do you think caused that?" Tress said her voice fearful.

"I don't know Tress," her mother replied seeing the concern and fear on her daughter's face, "you're awful protective of her."

"Huh?" Tress said only paying scant attention.

"I said you're awful protective of her."

"She's my friend," Tress said watching the coffee perk, the door and beginning to pace back and forth.

"You've only known her a few days."

"It seems longer, like I've known her all my life," Tress admitted.

"Is it because you know what happened and feel sorry for her?"
"Yes, no, yes, I don't know," she shook her head in confusion, "I do feel sorry for her and I don't want it to happen again but I'm also glad that it did."

Gillian looked at her daughter quizzically.

"It brought her into my life," she looked at her mother, "it's hard to explain it's just that I feel more alive and enriched when she's around."

"Do you think she's your anam cara?"

"Mom," Tress said throat tight and eyes starting to burn, turned away, "Matt was my anam cara, you know that."

"Yes," she sighed, "but I also know that the word 'cara' has other meanings than lover or mate, it also means friend. There are many degrees of friendship Tress, just as there are many degrees of love, Matt was your lover and soul mate but Bryg could be your soul friend."

Gillian saw her daughter listening thoughtfully, "Soul friends are special, dear," she walked over to her and pushed her hair behind her ear and Tress looked at her, "they don't come around every other day or even every year, they may be only once in a lifetime. They're confidants and fellow conspirators. They make your life richer and fuller when they're around. They make you laugh and you almost seem to finish each other's thoughts, you feel comfortable around each other even when there's silence and when they're not there you miss them terribly. You care about each other, feel their deepest hurts, understand them on a level no one else does and have a special connection of belonging," she paused, "sometimes there are people we meet who leave footprints on our hearts and souls that neither time nor any power can remove, maybe that's why you're feeling so protective because she calls to your soul."

"And how do I answer?" Tress said softly.

"Hang on tight and don't let go," she paused for a few moments as they locked gazes, "and," Gillian pushed up to get some coffee, "while you're at it you use your influence to get your mother's books autographed by her favorite author."

"I don't know mom, I haven't yet met Patricia Cornwell," Tress lifted her brows in innocence.

"You know you aren't too big to swat," Gillian said taking a playful swing at her.

Patrick appeared watching his wife and his second oldest laughing and hugging, "Glad to see you two are having fun, by the way, Bryg's fine and awake, got some caffeine."

Tress hit her right foot on the counter as she went around the island to grab a cup of coffee. "Shit," she yelped hopping around holding her foot. "Easy," her father said, "can you get it Gill, I don't need another patient, one in the house is enough for one night."

Gillian chuckled as Tress bounced around the room eventually limping into the library. Bryg was wrapped in a blanket and leaning back on the sofa. "How ya doin?" Tress said. "Fine," Bryg said looking up at her. "Headache?" "A little, but not a migraine, I just took some Excedrin." "What happened?" Tress asked. "I don't know, I was looking at your father's book collection and touching the old leather spines and suddenly woke up on the floor."

Tress winced as she sat in the chair rubbing her foot. Bryg smiled, "Hurt your foot again?" "Yep," Tress answered, "what is it with you and toes?" Bryg shrugged and Tress grinned as Gillian and Patrick walked in carrying a tray with the coffee, cups, sugar and creamer. "Did she say the 's' word again?" Bryg asked Gillian. "Yes," Gillian answered, "as she was bouncing around the kitchen holding her foot."

Bryg laughed out loud and Tress soon joined. "There must be a story there somewhere," Gillian said to Patrick and between laughing Bryg helped Tress tell them.

They all talked well into the night, Bryg although sleepy tried to follow and keep up with most of the conversation but eventually fell asleep on the couch. Gillian cleaned up the coffee and said they were spending the night. "We'll put her in Lauren's old room and you can stay in yours," her mother said and between the three of them and a half-asleep Bryg, they got her to the bedroom. Gillian and Tress got her under the covers and Gillian rummaged in the closet and came up with an old baby monitor. "Left over from Lisa," she said, tuned it on, handed Tress the other half and they both left the room.

Tress took it into her old room and set it on the nightstand, "Going to bed," her mom asked. "In a little while, I have to call Karen and postpone a meeting tomorrow morning until later."

"All right," her mother replied, "good night honey, don't stay up too late playing those video games, they're Mikey's and Lisa's."

"That's not what I was going to do," Tress denied, convinced that her mother was psychic, now she'd have to wait until she knew they were asleep before playing.

"Right dear," her mother said kissing and hugging her good night.

"Thanks mom, for everything, love you," Tress murmured into her mothers shoulder then pulled back.

"You're welcome, love you too, we'll see you in the morning before you leave."

"OK," Tress said and turned to her father.

"Night dad," Tress said giving him a hug, "love ya."

"Night dear, love you too, sleep tight," Patrick replied as they walked into their bedroom and before closing the door, he turned to her, "Make sure you turn the TV off when you're done and put the games away."

Tress opened her mouth to argue but instead smiled, her father smiled back and closed the door.

Tress took the receiver with her as she went back down to the library and pulled out the video game, inserted a CD and turned the TV's sound down, then before she started playing she paused the game and got up to look at the books Bryg was touching right before her attack. She moved her hand over the leather spines and one felt different than the others, odd, her pendants warmed and her finger tingled when she touched it. She pulled it out and saw the title, 'The History of Serial Killers'. She slid the book back in its place and locked the information away for later.


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


The next morning Bryg woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. She smiled and pushed herself out of bed. She went to the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, gave up on her hair, dressed in the clothes she wore yesterday and walked out to the kitchen. Gillian and Patrick were dressed and leaving. Gillian gave Bryg a hug, "Sorry we have to leave but we have brunch reservations and a tee-off time afterward. Breakfast is ready, stay and eat and don't be a stranger. What if we make lunch reservations for tomorrow while we're there, then you can try your hand at golf?"

"It's OK w..with me," Bryg turned to Tress.

"Sure, but I get first dibs on driving the cart," Tress replied as both her parents rolled their eyes.

"Th…thanks for everything," Bryg said to Gillian and Patrick.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Gillian said, "make my daughter take good care of you."

"Not a problem," Tress said, "see ya tomorrow, I'll call you later for a time." "Bye darling," her mother hugged her. "Bye sweetie," her father said as he held the door for his wife, "lock up when you leave, you know the code."

"Coffee," Tress asked and Bryg nodded, "have a seat and I'll serve it to you." She poured her a cup, "what creamer?" "Irish cream's fine," Bryg answered. She fixed the cup and opened the microwave to pull out a plate of food. Walking over to the table she set the plate and cup of coffee down in front of her. "Anything else?" Tress asked. "Nope," Bryg answered, "this is good."

Tress walked over to the other side of the table and sat down picking up the newspaper. "Anything interesting?" Bryg asked between bites. "Nah," Tress said, "interested in doing the crossword, I'm having trouble." "Sure, if you'll do the jumble with me?" "Deal," and they both sat down and lowered their heads together in study.

An hour later the crossword and jumble were finished. "How did you get that?" Bryg said. "I know some stuff and besides jumbles and crosswords are my specialties, amongst other things." "I've never done them before, they're fun." "Then from now on we'll do them together, but for now we have to going back to my house and get dressed, we have a meeting in an hour and a half."

Tress moved to get up but when she didn't see Bryg moving she sat back down. Bryg's eyes were still on the discarded newspaper sitting on the table and she was fiddling with her coffee cup. "What's wrong?" Tress said softly.

"Th…they know all about m…me and what happened." Bryg said it as a statement.

Bryg's stammering took her by surprise because she rarely did it anymore when it was just the two of them and Tress was confused then realized what she was talking about. "You mean my staff?" she asked.

Bryg nodded still not looking up.

"Bryg, look at me," Tress said face and eyes concerned, her voice soft and gentle, "do you trust me?"

"Yes," she said with no hesitation looking at her.

"We both agreed that it was essential to tell them everything. There's only five that know, Karen and her husband Paul, remember he went to school with me, Rick, Chloe and Bobbi and they're the only ones that will be at the meeting and will ever know all the facts. They're my best investigators, they've all been working for me for years and they wouldn't have reached this level of trust if they didn't agree with and abide by my expectations of confidentiality and discretion." She paused determination filling her eyes, "We wouldn't be fulfilling our contractual agreement very well without discovering as much information as we could get, it tells me how to play the game."

Bryg looked at her, "Game?"

Determination filled Tress' eyes, "Voltaire said that each player must accept the cards life deals them, but once they are in hand, they alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game. Tress' philosophy 101 says that life is short so break all the rules, in this case, you accept the cards, you make the rules and force everyone to play by them, that way you can't lose and believe me I'm really a poor sport."

Bryg smiled and chuckled, stood and leaned on the table, "Then since we're talking about rules, that means that you'll tell me everything, regardless of whether is hurts me or not, I won't be kept in the dark on this Tress, agreed."

"Agreed," and Tress stood to rinse the dishes and put them in the sink. Bryg's signed her mom's books which had conveniently been lying on the table, they locked up the house, Tress set the alarm and they drove back to her villa. "How should I dress?" "Those Docker pants and a nice shirt are good enough, that's what I'll wear, we're pretty casual there."

"Bryg, you really don't have to go with me you know, I can let you know what's happened."

Bryg shook her head, "No, a good friend told me I have to look fear in the face and do the thing I think I cannot. I've been taking her advice and it's been working for me."

Tress smiled. "I'll need a shower and a change of clothes, do we have time?" Bryg said. Tress called, "the office is only ten minutes away, besides, I'm the boss, I can be late."

Forty-five minutes later Bryg was waiting on the balcony for Tress. She'd taken all her meds and two Xanax and had the bottle in her bag. She was wearing a pair of tan Dockers and a blue long sleeve Nautica shirt. Tress walked out brushing her hair, "You ready?" "Yep," Bryg said turning to her. Tress was wearing a pair of black Dockers and white polo long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up twice. "Take your meds?" she asked. "Yep." "Got them with you?" "Yes" "How many Xanax?" "Two, with an option for more." Tress walked up to her, "It's my office and my staff, I'm the boss, I just snap my fingers and they come running, let me know and they're gone." Bryg looked at her with raised eyebrows. "After I run it by Karen," Tress said in a soft voice. Bryg laughed as they walked to the car.

Tress pulled up in front of a one-story building with the name 'Morgan Investigations' on brass plaques affixed to both sides of the double doors and a black cloth awning covering the entrance. She pulled into the parking lot enclosed by black wrought iron fence and right into the slot nearest the walkway to the front. "Being the boss has its perks," Tress said. "Do they let you do what you want?" Bryg asked. "Rarely," Tress answered.

They entered the front doors and Bryg saw a concave room. The wall to the left was a marble waterfall that fed into a small stone pond with floating plants and tropical flowers around it and from the ceiling hung greenery from recessed planters. The area to the right held several earth-toned chairs scattered around along with tables of magazines. A TV hung high in the corner and was turned to a channel playing 'Law and Order'. Directly ahead stood a gray marble receptionist's counter and desk against a black marble wall on which 'Morgan Investigations' was spelled out in antique brass gold letters. "Hi Kelly," Tress said to the young lady juggling the phone and standing at the same time.

"Hi boss," she replied, "glad to see you." "Things been hopping?" Tress asked as she walked past. "Yep, Karen's on the lookout." "Thanks, oh and by the way this is my friend and new client Bryg O'Malley. Byrg, this is our receptionist Kelly White."

Bryg stuck out her hand, "N…nice to m…meet you." Tress grimaced realizing that she wasn't thinking about the stammering, she'd have to be more careful in the future.

"Pleasures mine," Kelly said setting down the phone, "are you the author?" she asked excitedly.

"Guil…ty," Bryg replied closing her eyes against the stammering.

"Wow, then this is really a pleasure, I've read all your books, I'm looking forward to the new one, it comes out tomorrow doesn't it?"

Bryg nodded remaining quiet and Tress leaned over the counter lowering her voice, "I hear on good authority it has some wild sex in it."

"Really," she drew out and her eyes lit up as Bryg nodded, "I'm there."

"L…et me kn…ow and I'll sign you're c…copy," Bryg said.

"Really, Ms. O'Malley, I'd be honored, thank you so much."

"Y…you're wel…welcome."

Tress took her arm and led her around the marble wall, opening a glass-etched door that led into the inner office. "That was nice Bryg, but if it gets out you may be signing a lot of copies."

"Tha…t's OK," she said, "isn't it?" Tress laughed, "whatever you want Bryg, whatever you want."

She entered her office noticing the smaller office next to her was empty. "Here we are, home away from home," she said as she opened the door for Bryg. The warmth of the room was the first thing Bryg noticed, not the temperature, but the colors and warm feeling it gave her. Two overstuffed chairs sat in front of a large cherry desk with a matching couch against the wall. A bar with a sink and small refrigerator stood in the corner next to a door, which Bryg assumed was the bathroom.

"Well," a voice from the door startled them both and they turned toward it, "look what the cat finally drug in."

"Hey Kare," Tress said as she moved around the desk and took the cup of coffee Karen held out for her. Giving her a one armed hug she said, "I'd say I'm glad to be back but I'm not, no offense," she said releasing her. "None taken," Karen said. Tress turned toward Bryg, "meet my friend and our new client Brygid O'Malley."

Tress was a little concerned about how Bryg would be accepted by her old friend and watched carefully but her fears were soon dispelled as Karen offered her hand, "As they say, any friend of Tress' is someone that deserves a medal, she can try the patience of the saints."

"You mean I try your patience," Tress said eyebrows raised over a paper she was reading.

"Same difference," Karen said, "ask my husband."

Tress shrugged her shoulders in agreement and Bryg smiled as she shook her hand, "It's n…nice to m…meet you," she said, "T…tress talks a lot a…about you."

Karen smiled, "I'm sure it's all good," she said playfully sarcastic as she looked at Tress who shrugged.

"Come on Bryg," she said locking her arm in Bryg's, "let's get some coffee and I'll introduce you to the rest of the staff," she turned to Tress, "not all of us act like we were raised in a barn."

"What is it with all of you and farm animals?" Tress called out after them and followed watching as they walked arm and arm toward the conference room.

To say Bryg was nervous was an understatement but she held it together so that no one but Tress could tell. Everyone was introduced, she had already met Karen, her husband Paul Hernandez, Chloe Davis, Rick Masters, and Bobbi DeNiro, whose name and the fact that she was female raised Bryg's eyebrows. Everyone sat down, Tress near Bryg whose hands trembled as she reached for her coffee. Tress coughed softly enough to get Bryg's attention and smiled at her reassuringly receiving a thankful smile in return. She had already reviewed the basics of the case and had been in contact with her staff over the internet and read and replied to reports late at night after Bryg had went to sleep. Tress wanted to save Bryg reliving as much of this mess as possible and had an idea in her mind of where she wanted the investigation to focus.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, and I use those terms loosely," Tress smiled and the rest of them chuckled at her, they had a good working relationship and a sense of humor was essential. "Let's start," Tress said and stood to stand at the marker board. She drew a circle at the top and put 'parents' in it, then three connecting lines to three circles underneath the larger one, each with a name in it, 'Richard', 'Bryg' and 'Ashlyn'. To the side of Richard's circle was another circle with 'Tina,', who was Richard's wife, written in it and to the side of Ashlyn's circle another circle with 'Pete and kids' written in it.

Underneath Ashlyn's circle Tress wrote 'kidnapped and missing', underneath Bryg's was written RidgePointe, Allen Carr, Prime Shots, Jonathan Franklin, Premier Galleries, FBI, Atlanta. Underneath Richard's circle was written international attorney, travels abroad extensively.

"Let's look at what we know. Ashlyn was kidnapped and still missing, anyone turn up anything on that?" "No ID on the car or kidnappers, two men, stocking caps, white van," Rick said.

"Anything to do with Pete, like someone upset about treatment?"

"Nope, no malpractice claims or complaints with the state board," Rick replied.

"All right then, what about Allen Carr, Prime Shots, Jonathan Franklin and Premier Galleries?"

"I talked with Allen Carr," Paul said, "he did see the photo at Prime Shots and after a conversation with our people, the owner confirmed the picture was there but sold."

"Did he say to who?"

"Nope, he wouldn't reveal that info but there are other ways to skin a cat. It had to leave there somehow so I'm checking shipping records and should have something soon."

"What about Jonathan Franklin, Premier Galleries?"

"I talked to Steven Hall, the branch manager, he checked the records and said that they have no record of a Jonathan Franklin working at that gallery or any of their others."

"So he used the fake name and made up a gallery, maybe one he used at one time," Bobbi said.

Tress went to the board and 'X'd' through 'Allen Carr' and 'Jonathan Franklin', leaving 'Prime Shots' open and writing 'shipped' next to it. She then turned to them, "why didn't the FBI find out about this? Who was the lead agent?"

Paul cringed, "Menace."

"Well, that explains it," Tress said sitting.

"W…wait, ex…plains wha…what?" Bryg asked.

"Agent Jay North, AKA Menace," Paul said. Bryg's face still looked confused. "You know," he continued, "Jay North, he's the actor who played Dennis the Menace on TV."

"He's an asshole," Tress said, "one of those 'I have the job with a badge and know way more than you do arrogant assholes'."

"He's just that way because you wouldn't sleep with him," Karen said.

Bryg's eyes grew wide and she looked at Tress.

"Yeah, in his dreams," she said.

"Probably," Karen muttered.

"What?" Tress' voice rose eyes narrowing in on Karen who could tell by the slight smile she wasn't serious.

"Nothing boss, nothing," Karen said although she and the others were fighting a laugh.

Tress eyes narrowed in suspicion then turned back to the board a hidden smile curved on her lips. She studied the board and went over under Ashlyn's name and wrote 'picture' and drew a line connecting 'Prime Shots' and 'shipping?' to it, then 'X'd' through 'FBI' and 'Atlanta' under Bryg's name.

"What about Richard?"

"He's an international attorney who travels extensively mostly abroad," Chloe answered.

"Any idea where he goes and what he does while there?"

"Doing that as we speak."

"Find out all you can about him, business, wife, girlfriends, friends, associates, anything you can," Tress mused as she looked at the board, "and dig up everything you can about RidgePointe, it's owners, doctors, nurses, employees, etc, etc, etc." She waved her hand around in a small circle reminding Bryg of what Yul Brenner did in that movie about the King of Siam.

"Aye," Paul said in a Scottish accent, "we'll give it all we got, Captain."

Tress laughed, "Anything else, crew," she asked.

They all shook their heads. "Then we'll meet again on Wednesday unless something important comes up before then, same time, same place, make it so," she replied in a low British accent.

They all chuckled nodded their assurances and left leaving Tress and Bryg alone in the conference room. Tress sat next to her, "you all right?" "Just overwhelmed," Bryg said. "It will get easier. I know it seems we didn't get too far today, but…," She was interrupted, "Tress, you've gotten f…farther than anyone so far including the FBI. I appre…appreciate everything you've done and I appreciate you being my friend," she said shyly.

"Back at ya," Tress replied, "shall we go get some lunch."

They walked out of the conference room and saw Paul talking to Karen in her office, "Hey you two want some company for lunch."

"Boss, you can't leave, there's financial reports to review and checks to sign."

"I trust your judgment and you can sign them, come on let's go eat."

"Tin City," Karen said suddenly interested.

"Tin City," Tress answered.

Fifteen minutes later they had arrived at what looked like an old wharf building with a tin roof on the water next to a marina. "It's a shopping area built on the site of a 1920's clam shelling plant," Tress explained, "it's supposed to represent the spirit of Naples maritime history. We'll eat then we can look around, some of the shops in and around the marina are interesting." Tress turned to Karen, "Pier 41 or Riverwalk?" "Pier 41's new, lets try that," Karen answered. "We're with you," Tress said.

They walked into a restaurant, were seated and ordered drinks. They kept the conversation casual and light and enjoyed a great lunch. Bryg laughed as she heard all about Tress' adventures in college. After lunch Karen and Paul returned to work and Tress and Bryg walked around Tin City. When they were finished and Bryg had bought another bagful of souvenirs they walked out to go back to the car. Just outside the door a woman called to them, "the bay cruise is leaving in ten minutes, only an hour and we have some spaces left." Tress looked at Bryg whose face showed her interest and walked over to the woman. Tress paid for the tickets over Bryg's opposition and they compromised agreeing it would be added to the bill and they went on a bay cruise.

Bryg pulled out her Cardinal baseball hat and put it on, pulling her hair through the back. Afterward seeing several dolphins, seagulls and pelicans, they returned to Tin City, walked through the marina and found some more shops. They each bought an ice cream, sat and watched the water for a while, then walked back to the car. Returning to Tress' villa they looked for something to watch on TV and decided nothing was to be found although there were over 300 stations and decided to go see 'Ya Ya Sisterhood'. They left the movie both laughing and enjoying the time together and stopped at a Starbucks for a coffee on the way home. In the corner were several overstuffed chairs and a table and they sat down. "Tress," Bryg said looking over the top of her coffee cup, "in the meeting this afternoon you wanted them to investigate RidgePointe, why?"

"I have a feeling," Tress said.

"What kind of feeling," Bryg asked.

"I don't know, just a feeling that something isn't right," Tress answered then leaned on the arm of the chair holding her coffee, "I mean why RidgePointe? Why pick a place way down in the middle of Louisiana miles from nowhere, why not Michigan, close to you, New York where he lives, Chicago or anywhere else, but why RidgePointe?"

"I d…don't k…know, I ne…never th….thought about it," Bryg said nervously.

Tress realized that she'd made Bryg nervous, she'd said too much too soon, they were just suspicions, but she'd also promised not to keep her in the dark, even if it hurt.

"I'm not sure of anything yet Bryg, they're just questions that's why I asked them to check into it," she paused still leaning on the chair arm, "Bryg, I need to ask you this because I need to know. If I asked you to do something, could you do it without thinking or analyzing, no matter if it was against everything you felt, could you do it, could you trust me that much?"

"Yes," she said unwavering.

"Yes?" Tress repeated as if making sure of what she'd heard.

"Yes," Bryg answered again, "because I've been trusting you like that since that night on the beach at Sanibel."

Tress looked at her as she dropped her eyes then looked back up smiling, "I…I've gotten in the habit of avoiding intimacy of any kind outside my family, especially since what's happened this last year, but I can't ignore this feeling of familiarity between us, as if we've know each other for years." Tress smiled, "I know what you mean." Bryg continued, "I feel comfortable around you Tress, even when there's silence, and I can't think of anyone, besides Ash, who makes me feel that way. You believe in me, listen to my innermost thoughts no matter how ridiculous they seem, make sure I've had my medicine, that I'm all right and most importantly you make me laugh. You seem to understand me on a level no one has before and even though we've only known each other a short time, I feel we've already reached what I believe is a friendship that will only strengthen with time and age, sorta like fine wine," she grinned.

Tress smiled widely and forced out the words through a tight throat, "right pal."


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


By the time they had returned to Tress' villa the message machine was blinking. "Darling," Gillian's voice rolled through the air, "remember tomorrow at 11:00 for brunch, tee time is 12:30 and you have dibs on the cart. Your brothers are in town picking up some of their furniture and clothes and your sister's also coming to see them before they go back to school. Tell Bryg not be worry they're all housebroken," they could hear Patrick denying it in the background, "don't listen to your father and thank Bryg for signing the books, she made me laugh and touched my heart, love you, see you tomorrow and don't be late," her voice changed to serious, "you know how I am."

The next day Tress and Bryg were on time and Bryg met all Tress' family, including Mike, Lauren's husband who decided to take the afternoon off with his wife. Bryg felt welcomed and thoroughly enjoyed her lunch with Tress' family. She smiled at the playful teasing, didn't do too badly for a new player and learned from Tress how to drive the golf cart. Before they left she thanked everyone, Gillian hugged her and Patrick held her hand in both of his. Neil, Sean and Lauren all got an autograph and they made Bryg promise she'd visit again which she did.

On the way home she told Tress how much fun she'd had and how great her family was, "Yeah," Tress said, "they'll do in a pinch," she smiled.

When they returned home the message light was blinking, "Boss, we think we've got something, can you meet tomorrow at 10:00? Call back and leave a message."

Tress looked at Bryg who nodded nervously then picked up the phone and dialed Karen's phone, "We'll be there," she said.

That night women screamed, she smelled feces and urine, something dark flew by her dropping bodies on the ground as it passed, ghostlike images of women rose from the bodies, they reached for her, grabbed at her, crying and begging for help, they all wore white scarves around their necks and notes with red and white lettering rained around her. She heard muted voices, felt blood being wiped from her face and the feelings of terror and rage so nauseated her she flew up out of bed and would have kept going right over Tress and onto the floor if Tress hadn't caught her and held on as she hung over the side of the bed vomiting into the can Tress had set up the moment she heard the warning noises from the baby monitor. It was the most violent her vomiting had been and she heaved and heaved over and over again until she was exhausted and nothing came out. She was literally lying across Tress' lap, Tress' feet were braced against the floor and held her with one arm across her collarbone in front, the other arm across her back her hands on her opposite shoulder and fingers interlaced. When she was finished she leaned heavily into Tress who lifted her back onto the bed.

"Wh…what happ…ened?" Bryg forced out.

"I heard noises, you were having a seizure, it didn't last but a few seconds, I made sure you were safe on the bed then you asked what why I was sparkling and what smelled. I went to get your medicine, the waste can and a wet cloth and you suddenly came flying at me and got sick," she wiped her mouth and the blood under her nose, "how do you feel."

With great effort Bryg lifted her arm to above her right eye, "hurts."

"I'm going to hold your head and spray the Imitrex," she put her hand on the top of her head and gently pushed it back as she sprayed twice in each nostril. She helped Bryg scrunch down into the pillow, pulled the blanket up to her chin, got an ice pack from the kitchen and wrapped it in a towel and put in on the back of her neck.

Bryg tried to rub the pain away but she couldn't seem to get her fingers to move. "Relax," Tress said pulling her hand away." Bryg's eyes fluttered open and she tried hard to keep them there. "I'll do it, if it's OK?" Bryg closed her eyes in exhaustion barely able to nod and Tress gently rubbed above her right eye and her right check, almost exactly where the scar was. "Thanks," Bryg muttered. "That's what friends do Bryg, they help each other." Bryg fought sleeping, "But all you do is help me, what do I do for you?" she slurred, her eyes closed and Tress wasn't sure whether she heard her or not, "Be my friend."

Bryg woke up the next morning seeing Tress sleeping what looked like a very uncomfortable position in the chair next to her nightstand, 'Libbie and Autie' lying on the floor. "Tress," she said gently. Tress jumped up startled, "what's wrong, are you all right, what's wrong?" she sat on the edge of the chair, still half-asleep and rubbing her eyes. "I'm fine," Bryg said pushing herself up and lifting her legs off the side of the bed, "are you?"

Tress yawned and stretched, "I'm a little stiff but I'll live."

Bryg still sitting on the bed looked at Tress, "It was bad wasn't it?"

"Yes," Tress said, "the seizure was short, a few seconds, but the vomiting and headache were bad, your nose bled again. Do you remember anything?"

"It was like the others only kind of blurred up and hazy, muted, like I was looking through a fog, images, women screaming, some kind of smell, something white, red paper, fear, that's all I can remember."

"There're getting closer, that's the second one in less than a week," Tress replied then looked at her with concern, "can you handle going to the office in," she looked at the clock, "uh oh, a hour and a half?"

"Let me take a shower and I'll get back with you," Bryg answered.

"We'll both take one and I'll meet you on the balcony, with coffee," Tress said.

"Deal."

Tress was waiting on the balcony with a cup of coffee and some instant oatmeal for Bryg. She'd already had hers and was reading the paper as Bryg walked up behind her. "For me?" she asked. "Yep," Tress said. "Anything interesting?" Bryg asked. "Nope just continuing the hunt for Bin Laden and the al-Qaida terrorists. Look at this guy, what a piece of work, he was born in Buffalo, NY and lived in Lackawanna. He went back to Saudi Arabia with his father and after his dad died he took up the cause. He even came back and requited six other Americans who are now being indicted as giving "material support" to a terrorist organization. Their lawyers say their innocent dupes, yeah right," she showed Bryg the article and the guy's picture. She paled and the coffee cup barely made it to the table as she grabbed the newspaper with both hands and walked over to the sunlight to get a better view. She held the paper tightly and left the room.

"Hey," Tress yelled concerned, "where are you going?" "Where's your computer?" Bryg yelled from her room. "I have the laptop in here," Tress said. Bryg walked into her room with a CD in one hand the newspaper in the other, "Can you view photos on it?" "I think so, I've done it before," Tress said pointing to the small table the laptop set on, "if we can't do it here we'll take it to the office, Karen will figure it out." Bryg put the CD in the sliding tray and turned on the computer. It booted up and Bryg clicked on the CD rom and then clicked on a folder that said 'NY Photos' and several photos came on the screen. "These were taken last June, at Richard's house. I had to go over some papers with John and didn't want to fly alone so Ash went with me and my parents decided to meet us. We took in a Broadway show and met Richard at his office, then were invited to Richard and Tina's house for dinner, I think it's the only time I was there. It was surprised at how big it was, they even had servants and a butler. I took shots of everything, his house and his office. Look at that picture on the wall of his study at his house, behind Richard and Tina." She held up the newspaper picture next to the screen and made the picture bigger. "Isn't that the same man?" Bryg said. Tress looked over her shoulder at the photo on the screen, back at the newspaper then back again, "It looks like the same one, we'll need to get it enlarged, let's get to the office."

They hurriedly finished getting ready and Tress called Karen on the cell phone on the way to the car, "We're coming in early, I need some help enlarging a photo on a CD rom, get everyone there, ten minutes."

"Can't you get it any bigger?" Tress asked Karen and Chloe as they worked on the computer and stood in front of the special computer marker board that was attached to a projector and projected what was on the computer screen. You could even touch the board and control the computer from there. Tress pitched at fit last year when they bought it but after she saw what it could do, she changed her mind and decided it was worth what she spent, besides it was like something out of Star Trek and tax deductible.

"Nope, that's as big as it's gonna get," Karen said. Rick, Paul and Bobbi walked into the conference room and shut the door. Bryg was sitting at the table staring at the screen, Tress was at the screen pacing back and forth and Chloe and Karen were working on the computer trying to get both the photo from Richard's study and the photo from the paper on the screen at the same time.

"What's going on?" Paul said. "Have a seat and hang on a minute," Tress said, "Karen you guys ready? "Ready?" Chloe said and pressed a key and two photos showed up on a split screen, the man from the newspaper and the photo from Richard's study. "Hey," Bobbi said, "they look like that guy in the paper this morning." "They are that guy in the paper this morning," Tress said. She pointed to the picture on the right, "this is from a photo of Richard's study taken in March by Bryg while visiting, and this photo here," she pointed to the one on the left, "is from the paper this morning, identified as one co-conspirators in the Lackawanna, N.Y. case."

"Lackawanna," Nick said, "wasn't that where those six Americans formed that al-Qaida sleeper cell, the 'Buffalo Six'?"

"Yep," Tress said, "and this guy," she pointed to the picture on the left, "is the one who converted and recruited them."

"What else did we find out about Richard? Tress said.

"Travel records date back to 1996 show extensive travel to Hamburg, Germany, the Middle East, Southeast Asia, South America, the Cayman Islands Alexandria, Louisiana, Seattle, Washington, and Dubai, Saudi Arabia," Rick said, "phone and e-mail records show numerous contacts with Hamburg, Seattle and Saudi Arabia."

"All suspected al-Qaida cells or training camps and Dubia and Seattle is where they think the financing originated," Bobbi said.

"Then Richard is involved somehow with the al-Qaida," Rick asked.

"Looks that way," Paul replied, "that would certainly explain the style of living. As an international attorney in a small firm in New York, the highest salary would be around $300,000 and according to official tax records that's true but sources tell me that Richard and his wife make several trips a year to the Cayman Islands, in fact they own a home there."

"And probably a bank account," Tress said.

"A fat one," Paul said but before he could continue Bryg interrupted him.

"T…tress," Bryg finally spoke after sitting quietly since they arrived, "does this mean he k…knew ab…about…," she didn't have to finish the sentence, it was the same question on everyone's mind.

"He, he kn…knew," Bryg muttered.

Tress watched her, her eyes tightened, her breathing increased and her jaw clenched. She was rubbing her knee, staring at the table and avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Tress' head began to hurt right above her right eye and she heard the rush of a wind, like the air conditioner had just kicked on and was blowing air directly on her. She looked up but there was no vent above her. She looked over at Paul and Karen and gestured her head and eyes toward the door. "One minute," Tress mouthed. Karen nodded and they all silently left the room and carefully closed the door. Bryg still hadn't moved, they could have danced a jig out the door and she wouldn't have noticed.

Tress reached into her bag sitting on the floor for the bottle of Excedrin and a two Xanax. She walked to the sink, poured a glass of water and returning handed her three Excedrin and the Xanax. Bryg took them without a word and leaned her head back against the chair. "Deep breaths," Tress said sitting next to her. Bryg still leaning back on the chair turned her head to her and whispered, "he…he kn…knew." She closed her eyes to the pain, and lowered her head in her hands, "h…he kn…knew and he…he k….k…killed them."

Tress knelt next to her chair and lightly touched her knee, "Bryg." "Wh…why?" Bryg asked looking up at her voice trembling, eyes filling with tears, "why w…would he wa…want my p…parents dead?"

"I don't know Bryg but there's a strong possibility he knew what would happen that day, it's too much of a coincidence for him to be delayed and them to be in the office at the exact time the planes hit," she paused eyes on her friend, "I'm sorry," her voice filled with compassion and sympathy.

Bryg had lowered her head, and Tress turned slightly, watching and waiting. "Bryg," Tress said, "I promise you I'll find out, we'll find him and bring him to justice."

Bryg pulled her head up and angry golden-green eyes bore into Tress and for a second she saw her through a reddish haze. She blinked at it was gone and for the first time Tress noticed her voice was steady and firm, committed, full of strength, courage, confidence and something else Tress recognized vengeance, "What do we have to do?"

"Let's hear what else they found out, " Tress smiled back, "Kare," she yelled as loudly as she could.

The door flew open and Karen ran in, "Is everything all right?" she asked out of breath.

"Everything's fine, we're ready to continue."

"They why don't you use the intercom like normal people, you scared the life out of me, that's how they call farm animals, see Bryg I told you she was raised in a barn," and walked over to the desk and pressed a button on the phone. "And you," Tress said looking and pointing at Karen, "stop talking to my mother."

Karen got a 'who me' look on her face and shrugged her shoulders but before they could continue their playful banter Paul and the others walked in.

"Bobbi and I searched the records for RidgePointe. I won't bore you with how we found out, but it seems Richard is part owner."

He waited a moment for the information to sink in. "He and a Dr. David Hyatt, the director, each own half, the closest airport is Alexandria, that explains the travel and we also found something interesting about Alexandria, Louisiana." Bobbi took over and flashed a map of Alexandria and a 150 square mile radius up on the screen. "When I did a search in the FBI records I found a geoprofile," she saw Bryg's question on her face and directed the rest to her, "it's a map of unsolved murders of women that the FBI seems to have under investigation. Geoprofiling takes into account factors such as major routes and travel times to figure out where they perpetrator is likely to live or work. The FBI thinks it's a serial killer, white and older, because they tend to travel farther than younger."

The map showed nine spots on it close to major highways and all with 150-mile radius of Alexandria. "There's five unsolved murders in the FBI file but through our investigation we've uncovered another four we're certain are connected to these and there may be more we're still searching but all the victims were found within a 150-mile radius of Alexandria, Louisiana."
Paul looked at Bryg then at Tress.

"We're going to go over the murders and there'll be descriptions of the injuries and photos, do you want to stay?" Bryg nodded. "All right but think about looking at the pictures they're pretty gory." Bryg nodded again and Tress turned to Paul to begin. He passed folders around for everyone including Bryg if she chose to look at them.

"These are the ones we found," they all opened their folder, "the first one committed about 10 years ago was known prostitute, age 45, height 5'2", dark hair and past arrests for 'drunk and disorderly'. She was found assaulted on a Sunday night. Her head was bruised and a part of her ear was torn off, she was taken to the hospital and died 24 hours later of 'infection due to a blunt instrument shoved up the vagina'. A witness said she left the bar with a man about 30 years old, brown hair dressed in dark clothes, about 5'10", moustache, well dressed. An investigating officer says numerous beer bottles were found at the scene but none were tested for blood and they were dismissed as the murder weapon."

Paul continued, "This next one was committed a year later, same age, height, coloring, a prostitute, past arrests for 'drunk and disorderly'. She was found strangled in an alley, clothes were not disturbed and a white, silk scarf was found around her neck, no signs of struggle."

"Any witnesses?" Rick asked.

Paul shook his head as he turned to the next photo followed by the others, "A year later another one, victim similar in all aspects. Was found with two cuts to the throat. She survived and identified the attacker as short, around 5' 7", clean shaven, neat but clothes and shoes worn, slightly heavy, balding, Braves baseball cap."

Tress leaned forward, "Where's she at now?"

"Dead," Paul said, "last year in a DWI."

He continued on to the next, "Another year, another murder, same age, height, coloring, a prostitute, past arrests for 'drunk and disorderly', was found lying on the street with her throat cut and her clothes were torn off exposing her genitals."

Tress sat there with a legal pad in front of her and began to number one through nine. Under 1 she wrote blunt instrument, next to 2 strangled, next to 3 strangled and small cuts to throat, next to 4 throat cut and genitals exposed. She turned to Paul, "What about the ones reported to the FBI?"

"All a year apart, the first reported almost six years ago," he nodded at his wife and pictures of the five victims the way they looked prior to their attacks appeared on the screen and he pointed to each in return as he described their wounds, "she was found in a courtyard of an apartment building with 45 stab wounds, including genitalia and breasts. The second murder, her was throat cut in two places, one almost decapitating her, abdomen had several jagged incisions more on right than left, stab wounds to her breasts and genitals, no bowels or organs removed. The third one, throat cut almost decapitated, abdomen was slashed open, breasts stabbed, bowels removed and he took her kidneys, uterus and vagina. The fourth one, throat cut to the bone but no other mutilations. And the fifth was the worst so far, her throat cut to the bone, abdomen slit from genitals to sternum, intestines pulled out and tossed on the ground above the right shoulder, a section of her colon was removed and set between the right arm and body, there were cuts to the breasts, upper thighs and genitals, her vagina was slashed and face disfigured, deep cuts under both her eyes, lips sliced vertically, nose laid open and the tip severed. Her left kidney and half of her uterus were removed and there was a cut slicing through the pancreas, spleen, vagina and rectum."

Even Tress who had seen many murder victims swallowed hard as Paul described the injuries and she looked at the pictures. She noticed Bryg had listened but hadn't touched the folder with the photos and was avoiding looking at the screen. Continuing to write on her legal pad, next to five she wrote multiple stab wounds, breasts and genitals, next to 6 throat cut, nearly severed, cuts to abdomen, stab wounds to vagina, next to 7 throat cut, nearly severed, abdomen slashed, bowels removed, took kidneys, uterus and vagina, next to 8 throat cut, nearly severed, no mutilations, and next to 9 throat cut, nearly severed, abdomen slit from genitals to sternum, intestines pulled out, colon removed and arranged, cuts to chest, thighs and genitals, vagina slashed, lips and nose disfigured, left kidney and uterus taken.

"What does the FBI think?" Tress asked as she looked down at her paper.

"They're not sure, the victims could be interchangeable, they were all dark-haired and middle-aged, either underweight or overweight, had previous arrests and served jail time for prostitution and drunk and disorderly, were all killed on weekends and found on dark, secluded streets, late at night or early in the morning. There were no witnesses, sounds of struggle or screaming and no evidence of rape, sodomy or seminal fluids and something strange."

"What?"

"The coroner's report states little to no blood, a spicy smell and a chalky substance on the bodies. There were also fragments of broken limestone found at the last five scenes."

"What kind of spice and chalky substance?"

"Not sure, the lab reports weren't included but the post-mortem exam indicates that they were strangled, their throats slit with a long-bladed sharp instrument and that the physical mutilations were done with a smaller curved knife after death."

Tress closed the folder and set it on the table, "it usually takes several minutes to die from a slit throat they were probably alive, barely, when he started cutting them up."

Her voice faded out as Bryg saw the last victim lying in the ditch, her stomach ripped open and intestines drawn out, eyelids slit and face disfigured, body and bowels laid out in some ritualistic pattern. She felt cold envelope her and as the room faded away, she was on a dark, fog-shrouded street and heard a voice, "You would say anything but your prayers," and saw two people, and man and woman, the woman laughing as the man led her down a dark pathway between buildings. She felt nauseated from the smells and the lights were dim and gave off a hissing sound. She followed them and saw the man put something white around the woman's throat from behind, a scarf maybe. She saw the woman start to turn toward the man and he tightened the scarf. The woman started to scream but it was cut off as the man pulled the scarf tighter. Bryg was overwhelmed with fear and terror but couldn't move.

She was falling and saw white silk scarves flapped around her and notes full of red and white lettering fluttered in the air. She was in a courtyard, a bar, on a street corner, in a dark hallway. A strong metallic smell filled her nostrils in all these places and then she was back in that dark alleyway. She saw a dark figure huddled over a body with his hand moving a knife downwards then upwards then downwards again noticing how the light danced along the edge of the knife as it moved in its up and down pattern. He then set the knife aside and was moving his hands over the body as if conducting an orchestra. The dark, dirty place seemed to close in around her and the air itself so permeated with terror and rage that it filled her body with each breath. She tried to move but was frozen to the spot. The metallic smell strengthened and her vision tunneled until all she could see was the way he moved his hands over the body. Her heart pounded against her chest and a chill settled over her body and in the dim light she could see steam rising from the body in a fine mist and heard a voice speaking softly, almost affectionately, "this will save you, this will wash you're sins away," and swallowed hard to keep from vomiting.

Tress felt the tingling start at the base of her spine and rise in intensity and speed, dance upwards, end at the back of her neck causing the fine hairs to rise while at the same time sent a shiver echo throughout her body as it followed the chain around leaving behind a trail of warmth until it reached the pendants and the heat increased noticeably. Instinctually she turned to her right and saw Bryg's eyes frantically moving back and forth, lids blinking rapidly, staring off into the distance as if she were seeing something no one else could. Her left hand was resting on her chest and she seemed to be having trouble breathing.

"Bryg," she said touching her arm and everyone stopped talking and looked at them. "Bryg," she said stronger, now shaking it.

Karen looked over at Tress and Bryg, "Tress, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure," Tress replied concern filling the air, "turn off the projector but keep the lights low." Karen flipped off the projector then quickly moved around the table and everyone's attention shifted to them.

Bryg took a deep breath and jerked her head to Tress, her eyes wide and unfocused, her heart racing and breathing heavily. She looked at her for a moment as if trying to place her face then sparkling lights surrounded Tress' head like a halo, she smelled something and heard a great rushing sound. She knew the warning signs, but confused and disoriented she could do nothing but let it hit and hit it did without mercy more swiftly and intensely than she's ever experienced. Moaning she scrunched her eyes tight, slumped against the back of the chair, lowered her head and resting her elbows on the arm supports reached up to massage her forehead with her fingers. Tress grabbed for her bag and pulled out the Imitrex spray as Karen looked at her, "Migraine, help lift her head and hold it back. Bobbi," she called without looking, "get me two Cokes, Classic." As Karen and Tress began to lift her head, Bryg groaned weakly, "No, don't, hurts," in short, breathless, gasps. "I know," Tress said almost feeling the hurt herself and as Karen gently held the sides of her head Tress reached her free hand around and cupped the back of Bryg's head for support as she sprayed two squirts into each nostril.

Leaving her hand on the back of Bryg's head, Tress looked over her shoulder at Rick then down to her chair and he moved it over next to Bryg so she could sit down, then she nodded at Karen who released her hold and gently guided Bryg's head to roll to the left and rest against Tress' wrist and forearm. Karen looked at Tress, her face and eyes questioning. "Hand towel," Tress replied. Bobbi had returned with two cold Cokes and Karen had a white hand towel. "Open one and wrap the other in the towel," Tress explained as Bobbi opened one and handed the other to Karen who wrapped the towel around it and gave it to Tress who held it on the back of Bryg's head and settled it on her neck as she leaned her head back against it. The other Coke sat opened on the table. "Bobbi, in her bag are some Excedrin Migraine, grab me three and set them on the table."

After a few moments Bryg's eyes fluttered and finally opened and she began to push up on the arm supports. Tress removed her hand and sitting on the edge of the chair reached over and covered Bryg's wrist, "OK?" she asked worriedly. Bryg nodded as she looked up and stared over her shoulder at wall where the victim's images had been, then momentarily glimpsing at the folder glanced at Tress through tear filled eyes and whispered, "I saw them."

Tress' insides froze with fear and dread rushed through her body covering her like a blanket as the truth of Bryg's words hit her and as much as she wanted to scream out in denial she couldn't, for when she'd first heard of the murders and seen these pictures her mind had already considered a connection with the nightmares and visions. She'd pushed it aside and held it at the edge of her consciousness but regardless of her inability to understand knew deep in her soul that this wasn't a coincidence, these victims were calling to Bryg and somehow she was connected to them.

She felt a slight pressure on her left shoulder, like a hand giving support. She looked up behind Bryg and saw everyone watching the two of them and knew no one could be behind her at least anyone in physical form. A woman's voice soft and lilting filled her left ear, "wisdom, faith and courage, don't question, just accept," and even though she knew the space would be empty, her eyes instinctually glanced toward the voice and saw what she expected, nothing.

She slowly reached up with her other hand and touched her pendants feeling comforted by the familiar patterns and warmth of the metal and in her right ear heard a man's Irish brogue softly but firmly, "and nay be stingy about the sharing". A faint smile held her lips for a moment as her head tilted slightly toward the voice then her hand suddenly became unreasonable warm as it covered Bryg's and her vision settled on her.

"Hang on," Tress finally said, indicating with her hand for a Kleenex, she wiped a single drop of blood from one of Bryg's nostrils.

The others in the room knew something had just happened, but they had no idea what. If any of them had any doubt that this was just professional for Tress that was shattered after seeing the support and encouragement she gave Bryg, it was as if they had been friends for decades rather than a few weeks and all could tell there was a unique bond that connected them.

"Your nose is bleeding," Tress said using the Kleenex to wipe it away then held it in front of her so she could see.

She reached up and touched it, "Blood," her eyes locked on Tress, "It…It was them and, and…"

"I know," Tress said and squeezed her hand in acceptance, "here take these," and she picked up the Excedrin and handed them to her along with the Coke, "Maybe we should continue this later."

"No," Bryg said with decisively, "it's OK, I have to do this now while it's fr…fresh in my mind, they'll need to know so we can fi…find the killer."

Tress looked over Bryg's shoulder and noticed Karen sitting in the chair behind Bryg and glanced around the room at the others. They had all heard what Bryg had said and interest and curiosity peaked in their eyes.

"OK," she gave Bryg's hand a final squeeze and stood up address herself to the others, "it seems more's become involved in this investigation that just finding Ashlyn and I shouldn't have to remind you of our non-disclosure policy and nothing, I mean nothing said today leaves this room without my or Bryg's permission. You've all read the file and know Bryg's PSI scores are in the 85th percentile and high in the area of clairvoyance and telepathy. Her empathic, psycho-," she raised her eyebrows and looked to Bryg for help who continued where Tress left off, "my p…psycho-kinesis, and psychometric a…abilities are above average, but not as d….developed as the others," she said tiredly resting her head against the back of the chair.

Rick looked at both of them, "So your psychic like those people who advertise late at night on TV, like Miss Cleo?"

Bryg starting to feel better and even though still weary couldn't help but grin, "S…some people call it that or 'ESP', 'parapsychology', 'second sight' and the 'third eye'. S…scientists don't call it anything because they c…can't explain how I can know others thoughts and feelings. My mother called it 'imbas forosna', an Irish phrase meaning the tra…tradition of inspiration, and told me it ran in the maternal side of m..my family. I…In ancient Ireland such people were revered and called 'awenyddian', or inspired one. I mus….must have gotten all of it because Ash couldn't tell the weather until she l…looked out the w…window, and even th…then had to ask."

They all laughed gently at they way she'd just described her sister even Bryg's lips curling slightly upward.

She removed the Coke and towel from the back of her neck, reached up and rubbed it for a moment. She looked back up into five very captivated faces whose bodies were all leaning forward, elbows on the table, the sixth sat next to Bryg attentive and focused, not questioning, just accepting. "Sin…since Ash dis…disappeared I…I've been having unusually intense n…nightmares and visions," her voice shook slightly, "ghostlike images of women, n…not Ash," she said empathically, "but others," she glanced apprehensively down at the folder, "they l…looked l…ike those," she paused, "some w…were bleeding, some screaming, drown…drowning in rivers of bl…blood, s…sometimes they were quiet voices whis…whispering in her mind, other times th…they reach out for me, grab…bing, crying and begging for help, w….white scarves flutter around my body while notes with red and white lettering rain down from the sky," she paused and swallowed another mouthful of Coke, "I k…know it sounds c…crazy and I can't explain, b…but I f…feel Ash is a…alive and m…must be involved with the killer c…cause h…his victims are reaching out to me through her."

"What did you see in this last one?" Tress asked and motioned for Karen to turn on the tape recorder.

"The fir…first thing I felt was the c…cold. I s…saw the street and heard a voice, 'you…you'd say anything but your prayers', then I saw two people, a m…man and woman go…going into a dark pathway between t..two buildings. It was fo..foggy and smelled like wet leaves. The light was dim. I followed them and saw the man put something around the woman's throat from behind, a scarf, I th…think it was white. I saw the woman start to t…turn toward the man and he ti…tightened the scarf. The woman started to scr…scream but it was cut off as the man pulled the scarf tighter. I c…c…couldn't move," she paused catching her breathe, "then I was fall…falling and saw white stone c…cups, white scarves flapped around m..me and notes full of red and white lettering flu…fluttered in the air. I was in a courtyard, a bar, on a street corner, in a dark hallway. A strong metal…metallic smell was in all these places then I was back in that dark alleyway. I saw a dark figure hudd…huddled over a b…body with his hand moving a kni…knife downwards then upwards then downwards again. He then s…set the knife aside and moved his ha…hands over the body. It was c…cold and dark and dir..dirty and the met…metallic smell g…got stronger as he moved his hands, I…I even s…saw the st…steam rising from the body and almost v…vomited. I heard him, 'th...this will sa…save you, this will wa…wash you're sins away'. I d…didn't f…feel h…him or s…see his face, but I did f…feel his anger and rage and I also f…felt the victims fear and terror and afterward the feelings of injustice were almost overwhelming."

"So does this happen all the time?" Rick asked.

Bryg looked at her with a question on her face.

"Is this the first time that you've been connected empathically with someone who died violently?"

She shook her head, "There were al…always feelings when I…I was young. It lessened as I grew older but then af…after the head injury they really in…intensified."

"What do you think they want from you Bryg?" Bobbi asked.

Bryg looked at Tress then Bobbi, "I um, I th…think they w…want me to right a wrong. My m…mother said this might hap…happen that it was the curse of the gift. She taught me ways to bl…block myself from others, visualizations, deep breathing, surrounding myself with a white light. I've been practicing. Sh…she said that wh…when ancient seers med…meditated for prophecy and divination, the more emo…emotionally involved they were the more effective, that con…concentration, focus and desire will clarify and strengthen the images. To find Ash I…I need to let the emotions con…control me and that will be diff…difficult, I'm used to con…controlling things, k…keeping a distance, it's protected m…me and k…kept m…me s…safe, if I l…let go, I…I don't k…know wh…what m…may happen."

"Nothing will happen cause I'll be with you," Tress said putting her hand on Bryg's, "all the way, so will everyone else." Bryg looked over at Tress' team and they all nodded in agreement.

Bryg smiled, "Th…thanks," she paused, "Tr…Tress," Tress looked at her, "you appear to be my safety, my ground, when I had a vision, it was your touch, your voice that brought me back. I…It's n…not the vic…tims I…I'm w…worried ab…about, wh…when I let my barriers down, I may attract unwelcome com…company."

"Like the killer?" Karen asked.

She nodded, "E…even with the blocks my m…mom taught me, if he gets past that and I get l…lost, I'll need you near to bring me back," she looked directly at Tress whose pendants began to warm against her skin, "this will involve more than being with me, you'll h…have to be physically n…near me at all times."
Tress again heard the woman's voice whispering in her ear, "don't question just accept," and then the man's Irish brogue added, "and nay be stingy." She looked at Bryg and nodded answering both the silent and spoken requests.

"We'll make sure she's near," Karen said, "at least now we know she's good for something." Paul chuckled, Chloe, Rick and Bobbi nodded and Bryg smiled.

"Well, I do know I'm good for signing checks around this place," Tress returned.

"Actually," Karen said her face breaking out in a grin, "I sign the checks around here."

Everyone started laughing as Tress stood, "Then in that case you better bring the checkbook so we can get some lunch, if you're up to it Bryg?"

"I'm OK and I think I could use some food," Bryg said.

"Are we going to Tin City?" Karen asked.

"Is it in the budget?" Tress asked.

"Oh I think we can rearrange something," Karen said, "let's go."

"Before we go we'll meet again tomorrow around 10:00," she turned to Paul and the others, "in the meantime, after lunch, find out everything you can about RidgePointe, location, layout, anything," Tress said, "follow up on where that photo was sent and find those lab reports," she cast a worried look at Bryg who smiled reassuringly.

After they ate Karen and Paul returned to the office and Bryg and Tress drove to the Naples Pier. In the car Bryg opened her bag, took out her notebook and began to write. "What are you writing?" Tress asked as she looked at the paperwork on her desk. "What's happened today, I'm keeping a diary, may be a story in here somewhere."

They bought a fishing pole and some bait and tried their hand at catching something. After an hour with no luck they gave up and took their shoes off and walked along the shoreline.

Tress reached up and unclasped her necklace removing one of the pendants and took Bryg's hand and put it in her palm. "I want you to wear this," Tress said. Bryg looked at it lying in her hand shining golden in the late afternoon sun.

Bryg held her hand out to her, "No Tress, th…this is too much, it means so m…much to you."

"Bryg," Tress said in a firm voice keeping her hold on Bryg's hand, palm up, "I know we have a connection of friendship, but for the time being we're connected on a deeper level, not just by friendship but by a mutual empathy. It's hard to explain but I understand what you're trying to say, even before your thoughts become words, I can feel when you're in trouble, when you hurt, like when you're having a seizure, or are afraid. We're heading into dangerous territory Bryg, of things I can't even begin to understand, these victims and your connection to them, where Ashlyn fits in all of this and the killer. I've always relied on facts and figures in solving cases, now I'm relying on instincts and feelings, more yours than mine and this is new ground for me but, I'll not be questioning just accepting and I'll nay be stingy," her voice rose as if to make sure someone close by heard. Bryg attention was drawn away from Tress for a moment as her eyes quickly glanced from side to side to see who Tress was trying to tell besides her, then seeing nothing she looked back as Tress continued, "All my instincts tell me you need to wear this pendant," she paused looking down at it then up at Bryg, "remember I told you everything happens for a reason. Maybe the circumstances involved in our lives, good and bad, happened for just this time, for us to meet, become friends, give us new perspectives, become better, find a killer, I don't know," she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, "but maybe we're the only ones that can do it. I only know this isn't all chance, we were meant to meet and I need to give you this and you need to wear it."

Tress closed Bryg's fingers around the pendant pushing it further into her palm, "Do you feel the warmth?" Bryg nodded as Tress released her hand, opened it and noticed a slightly bluish glow. She looked at Tress who held hers by her fingers, "I feel the warmth in mine too, see what I mean," Tress said and showed Bryg her pendant which seemed to have an aura of red around it. We'll go get you a chain, promise me Bryg don't take it off, whatever you do or whatever happens, don't take it off, we'll lose each other and that can't happen."

"I promise," Bryg said and covered the pendant with her hand.

They stopped at a jewelry store at Third Street South and Bryg picked out a twenty-inch diamond cut chain, slipped the pendant on and hung it around her neck. The pendant warmed her chest and the heat followed the chain around to the back of her neck where it began to tingle and move downward and upward, increasing in intensity until every fiber of her body echoed with its touch.

She felt a flash of recognition like an unfinished circle that had finally closed and knew Tress felt it too. That night they talked of Irish gods and goddesses, heroes and heroines and for the first time since Sanibel both slept peacefully and undisturbed.


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


"All right people," Tress said bright and early the next morning, "let's figure out how this is all related. Did you get anything yet on those lab reports?"

"Yep, they found large amounts of calcium carbonate, sodium and chlorine, traces of sulfur, magnesium, calcium, potassium and scant traces of many others too numerous to mention."

"What's it mean?"

"Well calcium carbonate is what's in Tums and Maalox and sodium and chlorine are in salt, but table salt was ruled out, the percentages of the mineral content are all wrong and there's traces of over 40 kinds of minerals."

"So it's mostly stomach acid reducer and some kind of salt, what does that mean?"

No one had an answer. "OK then, lets focus on RidgePointe?"

Paul nodded and Karen and the layout was put on the screen, "That we were able to find more about, it opened 15 years ago and is mostly used as a state institution. They house the criminally insane and those seen as a danger to themselves and others and have been placed there by the court. They also have a few private placements but most of their income is from the state. They are located 50 miles outside of Alexandria, Louisiana on 100 acres that borders a river and a state forest preserve. But, what's really interesting is that the next property to the north is an old cotton plantation, the DuBois Plantation, it encompasses 250 acres and 10 years ago was bought by Ridge Point but never used as anything, it's still vacant."

"About the time the murders started."

"Yep and it gets better, Kare," Paul called, "can you superimpose the geoprofile over RidgePointe." Karen put the one picture over the other and it showed that all the bodies were found within exactly a 100-mile radius of RidgePointe.

"It seems that it's not Alexandria that's the center," Paul pointed out, "its RidgePointe."

"So somehow RidgePointe and these murders are connected so the first thing we do is…." Everyone finished in unison, "think like he does, put yourself in his place, study the crime scene, like you're a doctor studying symptoms and trying to diagnose a disease, he's like an artist, look at his work and we'll know him, start with the victims."

Tress stood arms crossed, waiting until they were finished. Bryg and Karen stifled a laugh. "OK, very funny, at least you were listening to me," she paused and turned to Bryg, "I'm going to put the pictures of the victims up again, do you want to stay?"

Bryg nodded and Tress looked at Karen who punched a few buttons and all five victims again appeared on the screen, "Let's look at the last five victims, the ones reported to the FBI. He kills dark-headed prostitutes, about 5'0" to 5"5", aged 35-45. It's clear this has something to do with sex by the way he mutilates the genitalia and breasts, stabbing and strangulation are the two most personal forms of killing. His fantasies focus on dominating women, prostitutes in particular, although they may not necessarily be his only choice of victims. According to the stat's and research perpetrators that commit these types of crimes are considered psychopaths and are usually sexually immature white males, aged 25-35."

"Early patterns for serial killers and other areas we need to consider are," she turned to Rick, Bobbi, Paul and Chloe and pointed to each in turn, "poverty, high probability of childhood abuse, animal torture and/or fire setting as a youth, could have a juvenile record, stealing, fighting one or both parents likely absent, if mom was present probably domineering and over protective," Rick said.

"Possibly uses drugs or drinks, financially irresponsible, can't deal with boredom, restless, impulsive and moody," Bobbi said.

Chloe picked up from there, "Keeps a low profile, doesn't necessarily have to have knowledge of body parts, looks like they were hacked, most likely good looking, friendly, and polite, but also cocky, arrogant and cool and cunning," she smiled and paused, "sounds like a few of my previous dates."

They all chuckled and Tress turned to Paul, "They lead normal lives, could be your next door neighbor, but they aren't normal in that they don't feel sympathy, have no conscience and no remorse, highly intelligent and organized."

"Very good class," Tress said.

Bryg had never seen Tress in her element before and looked at her in awe. She paced back and forth in front of the screen confidently and with authority and everyone looked at her when she spoke. "He focuses on prostitutes but the pattern of the attack's are random. He may have picked them up on the pretense of sex or he's watched them and followed them, attacking from behind by wrapping a cloth or strong rope around their neck," she walked behind Paul and put an imaginary rope around his neck, "he pulls their head back," and pulled Paul's head stretching it back exposing his neck, "cuts off their wind pipe and ability to scream and quickly, quietly and with little struggle," she moves her hand across his neck left to right, "slices their necks open."

"He's right handed that's why the cuts are deepest on the left side of the victim's neck." She patted him on the shoulder as thanks then walked toward the projection screen, "this last one's face was severely mutilated which means he's depersonalizing the attack trying to erase their identity. I wonder about the washing and the limestone cups."

She stood in front of the screen staring at the victims rubbing her neck, moving it back and forth from right to left and stopped when she hard the bones popping back in place. She spoke out loud but it was as if she were talking to herself, "Death is his motivation, power and control, the mutilations were an attempt in insult the victim, or," she paused in her musings, "as a warning to others."

She turned on them, "The book," she looked at Bryg, "your book, the new one, Kelly has it, Rick see if she has it here."

Rick left and returned a few moments later with Bryg's new book "Libbie and Autie'. Tress grabbed it and leafed through it muttering, "where's that picture?"

Bryg stood up and went over to stand by her, "what picture?" "The one that showed the mutilations the Indians did to that soldier?" "Here," Bryg said taking it, "here it is."

There was a photograph of a solder, slash marks on his upper torso, thighs slashed, groin crudely removed, stomach slit open and entrails pulled out, five to six arrows riddled the body, hands, feet, arms and head dismembered. "It looks like these victims," Tress said.

"Why did the Indians do that?" Chloe asked.

Bryg looked at her, "Some say it was to avenge the loss of their loved ones from the white men, others say it was to document the tribal affiliations of the killers."

"Is it an Indian custom?" Paul asked.

"No," Bryg said, "ancient cultures even the early Christians would mutilate their victims as punishment for some discretion."

Bryg felt pulled to the screen and the victim's faces. Her vision narrowed and even though she hadn't seen the mutilations, she could see them now. They started to go in circles like a merry go round, one after another circled around her blocking out everything.

A white image flew over her face and settled around her throat. She tried to scream but it was cut off. She felt pressure on her neck and felt a hand pulling her hair so hard some of it came out by the roots. She blinked and she was standing in a dark alleyway watching a large, dark figure hunched over the body of a nude woman. Her arms were pulled out sideways and her legs straightened. A knife glinted in the moonlight, it was different, and it had a blade that curved outward. As she watched it moving up and down she noticed that the blade looked, no was, golden. The muttering echoed around her, "time of justification, end of perversion and evil." She stood transfixed, unable to move or scream the air was filled with a spicy scent she recognized, she watched him take a white stone cup and pour water over the body, "the sons of dawn will take you out of the darkness and into the light," then he turned to her and his eyes bore into hers, she stepped back and felt herself falling.

She felt someone's arm holding her. She jerked up and looked directly into Tress' eyes. Paul was on one side and Rick on the other and they were guiding her down into the chair. She broke from their hold and leaned over gulping in great breaths or air, choking and coughing. A warm arm wrapped around her back and hand held her upper arm to keep her from falling face first on the floor. Another hand held a warm towel and wiped her mouth. After a few moments, she leaned her head back against the chair.

"Need your spray?" Tress asked looking worriedly at her face.

"N…nah, just ne…need to rest here for a moment. D…did I se..se..seizure?"

"I'm not sure, you just seemed to black out for a moment."

"Yeah, sorry, I sss…aw."

"It's all right, deep breaths, try to center yourself."

Bryg did what she suggested and calmed enough to begin again, "Something white flew over my face and tightened around my neck and someone grabbed the back of my head pulling so hard the roots of my hair came out. I can still feel them," she reached up to touch the back of her head, "I…I blinked and was standing in a dark alleyway watching a large, dark figure hunched over the body of a nude woman. Her arms were pulled out sideways and her legs straightened. A knife glinted in the moonlight," she stiffened her body till it was straight in the chair, "the knife," Bryg said breathlessly, "Tress, it wasn't…," she closed her eyes, "it wasn't straight, it had a curved bla…blade and it was a gold. He was muttering something, 'time of justification, end of perversion and evil.' I c…couldn't move or scream and could just w…watch. He poured water from a white, stone c…cup said something about the 'sons of dawn taking you out of the darkness' th…then turn…turned to me and his eyes bore into me, I fel…felt rage and fury, step…stepped back and felt myself falling."

"Paul and Rick caught you right before you fell," Tress said.

"Tress," she reached for her arm, her eyes pleading for her to listen, "that curved blade I've seen one like it before, the sons of dawn, where have I read that?" Bryg muttered to herself eyes moving frantically under her lids searching her mind, then she paled, "oh my god, Sicarius."

"Sicarius?" Tress asked concerned as her pendant warmed and sent a tingle up around her neck and down her spine and at the same time Bryg jumped up out of the chair and moved to the computer, her eyes asking Karen's permission to use it. Karen nodded and Bryg brought up the internet access and typed in the word 'sica'.

"What is it Bryg?" Tress said her voice revealing her anxiety.

"There, there it is," Bryg yelled excited as she pointed at the projection screen as a knife with a five inch long single-edged upward curved blade was displayed on the big screen so everyone could see. "Sica," the definition was written underneath it and Tress read it aloud, "a small curved dagger common to assassins in the Middle East, specifically Israel circa 100 BCE to 100 CE. Is that what you saw?"

Bryg nodded and walked to the screen, "The Sicarii or sica users was the name given to a group within the Zealots who were the military freedom fighters of their time. They violently opposed the Romans and used terrorism, kidnapping and killing against them. The Romans called them 'lestai' meaning bandits or outlaws, but they were very committed to their cause and would rather die than submit to the Romans, for example it was the Sicarii who killed themselves and their families at Masada. Between 30 and 32 CE, a fierce warlord the Romans called 'Sicarius', because of his skilled use of the 'sica'," she pointed toward the screen, "was one of the major leaders of the Zealot movement. He was brutal and ferocious during battle striking fear in the hearts of the Roman soldiers, so much so that the Roman commander wrote requesting additional troops saying that, 'he could gut a man from naval to sternum or slice off limbs with one stroke of his golden blade, fallen bodies, dead or alive, would be mutilated, faces disfigured, body organs and intestines extracted and flung over the field as a warning to those that followed'. Rome responded by recalling the commander and sending another but he too was just as ineffective and it wasn't until Herod himself requested a legion that one was sent. In 32 CE he and his followers were defeated in a failed revolt and 'Sicarius' was a wanted fugitive," she leaned forward both hands on the table, "but besides being a leader of the Zealots, he was the tribal head of East Manasseh, the warlord of Sekhakha and the Chief Scribe of the Essenes."

Tress leaned back in her chair impressed with Bryg's knowledge and noticed she wasn't stammering, she was teaching.

"The Essenes? I've heard of them, didn't they have something to do with the Dead Sea Scrolls," Chloe asked.

Bryg nodded and sat down next to the computer, typed in a few words and the Dead Sea Scrolls displayed predominately on the screen. "They were one of the three major religious sects of the time, the others being the Pharisees and the Sadducees. They opposed the priests in control of the Temple and were ultra-conservative scholars who followed a path called 'The Way'. They're credited with writing the Dead Sea Scrolls, although scholars prefer the term 'ancient Israelite scrolls', which were found in several caves near Qumran where their community was located," she leaned back and continued, "the Scrolls were one of the great archeological finds of the 20th century and it was hoped they would contain something about Jesus, they didn't but did tell of the religious culture of the time and contained religious documents, some from the Temple of Jerusalem, Biblical stories, and psalms dating back as far as 250 BCE. It's said that they were written under the supervision of Judas of Galilee, the founder of the Zealot movement," she paused, "and his successor," she typed some more words into the computer, "to the Essenes he was Judas Chief of the Scribes, to the Romans Judas Sicarius, and to us," she pressed a key and a pen and ink drawing of a man in ancient robes appeared on the screen, "Judas Iscariot."

"The betrayer of Christ," Tress said in hushed tones.

"That would be the one," Bryg replied, "Judas is always listed as the last to join Jesus as a follower, but most probably he was one of the first. As a direct descendent of David, Jesus felt it was his kingly duty to unite the Jewish nation, gentiles and non-gentiles, and reclaim their country for their own, so, to carry out his obligation he gathered followers and formed an inner circle of twelve, called Apostles. They were of the elite class, priests, healers, teachers, warriors and as Apostles their role was to support their people and defend their homeland from the Roman oppressors, even if that defense included military engagements."

She walked to the screen and pointed to the drawing, "But his military campaigns to free their homeland weren't as successful as he'd hoped. He felt the messiah should be able to provide some type of miracle for his people to free themselves of the Roman oppressors, so his strong and sometimes very vocal disagreements with Jesus about how he was carrying out his mission led to Judas feeling disillusioned and betrayed himself, so just as he felt betrayed he turned around and betrayed Jesus to his enemies for 30 pieces of silver. The rest shall we say, changed history." She walked back to the computer, logged off the internet and asked Karen to turn on the lights.

"But why prostitutes?" Paul asked, "If he's carrying out the role of Judas Iscariot, as a military freedom fighter, wouldn't he be like the al-Qaida and kill those he saw as threatening, the current 'Roman oppressors', Americans, how could he see prostitutes as being threatening to him and his people?"

"Could it be the diseases they might carry?" Rick asked.

"What about something to do with Mary Magdalene?" Chloe asked, "I'm not an expert, but from what I've read Judas was always jealous and resentful of Jesus' relationship with her, how he treated her as an equal and how he loved her above all others. Judas chastised Jesus for allowing a woman such as her to wash his feet and anoint him with oil. He didn't go so far as to call her a 'whore' to his face, but everyone knew what he meant, Jesus denounced Judas and defended her."

They all looked at her in wonder that she would know so much about this, "hey I spent 12 years in Catholic school something had to rub off."

They chuckled.

"What about killing them because he was betrayed by a friend who choose these kind of women over him?" Bobbi asked.

"I'm not sure," Bryg said sitting down and crossing her legs as she became engrossed in this discussion, "but I don't think Judas was a close enough friend to Jesus to feel jealously, there are many instances in history of advisors quite unfriendly and often at odds with their leaders, look at the current governments for examples."

"And if he's killing these women because they were preferred over him and he felt betrayed, that would make him homosexual and don't serial killers usually kill the objects of their desire?" Karen said.

They looked at her the same way they'd looked at Chloe a few moments earlier. "Hey," Karen said, "just cause I don't look like it I do listen."

"Sometimes," Paul mumbled.

"What?" Karen questioned.

"Nothing dear, nothing," he replied with the sweetest smile.

Bryg smiled at their banter, "I'm not as knowledgeable as you guys are in this but I don't think it has anything to do with his relationship with Jesus or the Apostles, I think it has to do with his duties as Chief Scribe of the Essenes."

They looked at her. "Besides others one of his duties would be to protect the celibacy of the females until marriage."

"And if they weren't celibate?" Bobbi asked.

"They were killed," she paused "I know, it was pretty harsh but it was a pretty harsh time. Josephus, an ancient historian who wrote much of what we now know of the Essenes said that those who didn't follow the rules came to a miserable end. In all the visions I've had so far, remember what I heard him say, 'this will save you, this will wash you're sins away, time of justification, end of perversion and evil' and this last one, 'the sons of dawn will take you out of the darkness and into the light' that's something directly from the Essenes. I think that in some distortion of religious devotion he's acting out the role of Chief Scribe by executing these women for losing their celibacy before marriage, then he's performing the ritual of ablution, the washing of hands or in this case bodies, before or after religious ceremonies," she paused, "if he's performing the mikvah on himself and the victims I'd bet that chalky, spicy substance is frankincense and your minerals are from Dead Sea salt or something similar," she looked at them smiling brightly, prideful in her discovery but it was soon deflated upon seeing their blank faces.

"OK, quick history lesson," she looked for a marker board pen and drew a large square and a small square and separate connecting pipes to each. "Frankincense is a starch-like substance consisting mainly of calcium carbonate, smells spicy and was rubbed on clothes to whiten them and remove odors. It's pretty expensive and similar to what we call Borax. The Essenes were obsessed with ritual purification and water so they built a series of ritual baths called mikvah's, which is literally translated as 'a gathering of waters' and meant to represent the River Eden," she marked numbers next to the squares, "the ritual baths were usually about ten feet long and three feet wide holding approximately 200 gallons of water with two sets of steps, one for descending and one for ascending. They were usually built in the lower levels of a building to prevent the growth of algae and over natural springs, the water was considered sacred and called 'mother's water' or 'living water'. There were advanced systems of channeling the water and usually two baths were found together. The smaller one," she pointed to it on the board, "was used as a bathtub, to wash away dirt and sweat before they entered the mikvah and could be emptied and refilled. The larger one," the pointed to it, "the mikvah, once filled was never emptied and used only for cleansing the soul by washing away sin and guilt. After total immersion, except for their hair, they became clean again then ate a sacred meal consisting of bread and new wine. Besides the baths often sat white stone vessels made from limestone, which they used to pour water on themselves to purify them. Back then they used Dead Sea Salts to keep the water fresh but today there's many choices and that would account for your lower mineral content and additional minerals."

She waited for questions but none came until she asked one herself, "The dates of the murders, how many days exactly were they apart and on what date were they killed?" Bryg asked.

Chloe shook her head a little surprised at all this information, punched something into the computer and the results shown on the screen. "Look," Tress said, "they are all exactly 360 days apart and all occurred on the 31st of a month."

"A cycle of 360 days and month with 31 were considered sacred," Bryg said.

"You got this all from a golden curved blade?" Paul asked wide-eyed, "that he's killing them as punishment for the loss of their virginity and then washing them to purify them of their sins so they can go to Heaven, then he's cleansing himself in one of these mik, mik, baths," he finally said, "so he can do it again."

"When I finished Cleopatra I started researching several people for my next book, one I'm considering is Mary Magdalene. I read a lot about their culture and traditions, sica and the words 'sons of dawn' triggered something and it began to fit with what we have," she said blushing.

Tress smiled with admiration, "Don't be modest."

"Yeah Bryg, don't be modest," Karen said and looked at Tress, "see what happens when you read directions."

Tress' words dripped with sugar, "Why read directions when I have you, and you know everything."

"Well, that's true, glad you finally realized it," Karen said laughing and was soon joined by the others.

Tress had stopped chuckling and was sitting with her thumb under her chin, her forefinger rubbing vertically just above her upper lip and looking down at a legal pad she had made notes on. Her lips pursed as her finger stopped and held there, her chair swiveling slightly from side to side. They had all seen this action before and knew Tress was thinking and that this meeting wasn't over nor this case resolved, there was something more. Tress slid the legal pad down the table to Karen and asked her to type it and project it on the board.

Silence descended over the room while waiting for Karen to finish. When it was projected everyone looked at the board, it was titled VICTIMS and numbered one through nine. Besides each number was a listing of the injuries sustained.

1. blunt instrument
2. strangled
3. strangled, small cuts to throat
4. throat cut, genitals exposed
5. multiple stab wounds, breasts and genitals
6. throat cut, nearly severed, cuts to abdomen, stab wounds to vagina
7. throat cut, nearly severed, abdomen slashed, bowels removed, kidneys, uterus and vagina taken
8. throat cut, nearly severed, no other mutilations
9. throat cut, nearly severed, abdomen slit from genitals to sternum, intestines pulled out, colon removed and arranged, cuts to breasts, thighs and genitals, vagina slashed, lips and nose disfigured, left kidney and uterus taken

Tress studied the projection, stopped swiveling, crossed her legs and leaned back in chair, thumb and middle finger on either side of her chin, forefinger moving horizontally now right above her upper lip when suddenly she straightened her head and removed her hand in one swift motion, uncrossed her legs, sat up straight with both feet flat on the floor, took a long look at projection, turned her chair, put her elbows on the table with her fingers interlaced and after a glancing at each face, except for Bryg's and Karen's, she said calmly and confidently, "what do you see?"

Bobbi spoke hesitantly, "There's a progression of violence."

"Yes," she drew it out, "and what else?"

They all looked from one another until Tress stood up, "Girls and boys first rule of getting hired is to read the boss' thesis."

Paul eyes brightened, "Jack the Ripper."

"Jack the Ripper," Tress said, "you get an 'A' for today."

"Jack the Ripper?" Bryg said.

"Jack the Ripper," Tress repeated, "Even after 114 years no one's figured out who it is although many think they have, including Patricia Cornwell, who's new book comes out in November with the definitive answer, which after talking with her I agree."

"You talked with Patricia Cornwell?" Karen said.

"Well not talked but we've had a few e-mails. When my professor at college found out she was writing a book on Jack the Ripper he sent her my thesis. I had narrowed it down to three suspects and Walter Sickert was one. Patricia Cornwell wrote me and asked if she could cite me in her book."

"So we have another published author in the room," Bryg said.

"Not really," Tress laughed, "just a citation."

"I may the only one here, but I don't know much about him Tress, since you're the expert could you fill me in," Bryg asked, "oh, and if you wouldn't mind what about an autograph?"

Everyone else began to ask for one too. "OK smart alecks," Tress said, "just for that I'm getting it and reading it word for word."

She started out the door and heard 'sorrys' and 'please' and turned back with a grin, "All right, for now here's the condensed version, but you'll all be receiving full copies later, Kare, make a note of that."

Silence filled the room. "Jack the Ripper, a name he chose to call himself, is credited with five murders in a small part of London called Whitechapel in 1888, but those were the most publicized, actually most experts think he's killed maybe thirty to forty victims in England, France and other places. These last four victims match almost exactly four of the five most publicized Whitechapel victims Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Liz Stride and Catherine Eddows. All middle-aged women with previous arrests, serving jail time for prostitution and drunk and disorderly, all killed on a weekend, all found on dark, secluded streets late at night or early in the morning, all killed quickly and quietly with no sounds of struggle or screaming, no blood at the crime scene or on the bodies, all killed with a long-bladed sharp knife with no evidence of rape, sodomy or seminal fluid."

"Then what is he doing, Jack the Ripper or Sicarius?"

"At my parents home a few days ago Bryg had a seizure after touching a book about the history of serial killers. I talked to my dad and he said it had a lengthy discussion of Jack the Ripper and his victims. Since Bryg reacted to that book, is having visions of the dead victims and saw the murder weapon, it's probably a combination of both, some kind of distorted religious fanatic who's following in the footsteps of what some consider the most cunning serial killer of all time, the ultimate humiliation, the last degradation, the final taunt, the fierce warlord and Jack the Ripper together, combined as one avenger."

"I don't be the one to burst anyone's bubble," Paul hesitated, "and this is all great information to solve these murders, but how do we know that Ashlyn may be involved in all of this?"

"Bryg's visions started when Ashlyn's disappeared so it has to have something to do with her. Bryg feels that she's still alive, she's connected to Ashlyn and somehow the killers victims, which means the killer is right in the middle, if we find him, we'll probably find Ashlyn but the question is where and time may be running short," Tress said, "the 31st is in three days."

There was a knock on the door and Kelly opened it and peeked in, "Come on in, we're almost done," Tress said.

"I just got this fax for Rick," she said handing it to him and left the room.

"Well I think we just answered your where question, the photo was bought by Dr. David Hyatt and mailed to RidgePointe."

Tress got up and walked to the other marker board, wrote 'RidgePointe' under Ashlyn's name and drew a line backwards across the board connecting 'RidgePointe' under Ashlyn's name to 'RidgePointe' under Bryg's name to 'RidgePointe' under Richard's name.

"Kare, turn what we've found out so far over to Nick, maybe he can help us shake a few trees and see what falls loose, in the meantime keep our agents checking on murders in the last 15 years, he had to start somewhere. Look for a pattern and you can eliminate anything that doesn't involve strangulation, knives or attacks to the neck, include males and females regardless of occupation, his MO may change, but his signature won't."

"MO and signature?" Bryg asked.

"Modus Operandi," Paul answered, "it describes the criminal's method of operation, his signature means what he uses to commit the crime. In this case the MO is the murder itself, and strangulation and the use of a knife is his signature."

"How far of a location do we search?" Rick asked.

"Stick within the area where the bodies were found. Animals stay in there hunting grounds as long as the prey is there and he hasn't had any problem finding them. He won't leave, he's playing a game, harassing and taunting the authorities."

"Tress, what about the Ripper's fifth victim?" Bryg asked, "you said there were five."

Tress paused for a moment and swallowed looking uncomfortable, "Mary Kelly, she was mutilated the worst. She fit the profile but she was younger and killed indoors."

Bryg paled and Tress felt a tightening in her chest and a chill roll through her body. She looked at Karen, "Get us all on the next flight to whatever airport is closest to RidgePointe."

"How did he die?" Rick asked Bryg.

Startled for a moment Bryg answered, "Who?"

"Judas, how did he die?"

"Some say he hung himself over his guilt, others say he was one of those crucified with Jesus, and still others say he was chased by Jesus' followers off a cliff to his death and was dis…," she stopped and looked up at them, "…emboweled by the fall."

An eerie chill swept through everyone in the room upon hearing the bizarre similarity of his fate and the murders, they looked at Bryg then Tress who muttered, "We're coming for you, you bastard."


Concluded in Part 3

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