Jacqueline C. Thomas - Romance Novelist

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The Importance of Place

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I’ve been thinking about this blog post for a while now, the concept of place and how it relates to a story. I knew I wanted to write this post, but I wasn’t quite sure how to go about it, then something truly unique happened. Over the summer I picked up a copy of Sandra Brown’s novel Fat Tuesday. Sandra Brown is romance writing royalty in my opinion and a New York Times bestseller, clearly, she knows what she’s doing. The story is set in New Orleans, somewhere I had never been.

In full disclosure I had started reading the book and set it aside for a while, not finishing it. I picked it back up, my interest reinvigorated when I booked a trip to celebrate my sister’s birthday in The Big Easy. New Orleans where the book takes place, and I would argue the city and the Delta is as much of a character as the actual characters. As I walked the streets of New Orleans, I could see scenes play out from Brown’s novel. From the Garden District to the French Quater, I was walking in the footsteps of Brown’s characters. It was an amazing experience, truly immersive!

When I think of place and setting I also think of Stephen King, and his affinity for setting books in Maine. Before I began to write I had always thought it was strange that he set his books in the same state.  Then I read the Ghostwalker series by Christine Feehan, and much of that is set outside of New Orleans, in the swamps. Reflecting on place, I find it interesting how much where you set your novel really does matter. It’s more than a geographic place on a map, it’s culture, weather, personality and so much more.

Most of my work is set in Chicago because it is my home and the city that I love. It is said to write what you know, and I know my hometown. Recently I was having a conversation and the person remarked that Chicago as a city didn’t really have a soul, meaning it didn’t have a feeling of uniqueness. After I picked my jaw up of off the ground, I made the stern argument that Chicago has a great soul. I have tried so hard to capture it in my work.

I have also set work outside of Chicago, one in Half Moon Bay, California, and the other in New York City. In every romance novel, I have written, I have strived to capture the feeling of where the story is set. I find that it enhances the story so much more. My take away from my experience reading Brown’s book in New Orleans was just how much place matters. As I walked the streets of New Orleans, I felt like I was one of the characters in the book. It made me wonder if Brown was from New Orleans as she had captured the spirit of the city so well.

Before I wrote this post, I did a little research, Brown is not from New Orleans, not that one has to be from a specific city to set a work there. I would have thought she was a native. I remember reading somewhere about Christine Feehan and how she would spend months down in southern Lousiana researching the swamps and the bayous and it makes me wonder about setting works in places I’ve never been. As an unpublished author at this point, taking a trip to somewhere a book is set for research purposes seems indulgent to me. I am not a New York Times Bestseller, well at least not yet. (Fingers crossed that I will be someday.)

For the works that I’ve written that aren’t set in places I’ve actually been too, this experience has made me wonder how much better the work could be if I actually went to these places and then in the next edits, put authentic details in. In today’s day and age, with the internet and Google maps, I think it is easy enough to get a decent idea of a city, at least geographically. While I was down in New Orleans, I did a bike tour where our tour guide was an author as well. He talked about how the city was like magic for artistic types, including authors. As we walked through the quieter parts of the French Quarter, I had the thought experiment of being able to travel back to NOLA to set a book there. I would rent a small, furnished apartment with a balcony and try to capture the feeling of the city. It’s a nice thought, isn’t it?

so as I grow as an author and I learn new things, this lesson has been solidified for me, place matters! Go visit, eat the food, be amongst the locals if you can. Capturing the spirit of a place adds dimension and texture to your work. Hmmm, now to think about setting a romance in the Big Easy….

 

What do you think about setting and place? Does it add more to the story, let me know in the comments below. Bonus points if you want to share a novel that has done it particularly well.

McKinley Park Chapter 20

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Rachel’s boys loved that Ben dropped them off for school. They were especially excited at the prospect of riding in his unmarked squad car. Their excitement was quickly dashed, when Ben told them Marty had his car and they’d be going in Rachel’s van. On the ride home, he called Marty, who was less than thrilled about Ben’s absence for the day but understood the magnitude of what was happening. Ben pulled into the driveway, promising himself that he and Rachel would be car shopping before the end of the week. He wanted to drive that van, off a cliff.

He walked into the house and found Rachel sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. There was a box of tissues on the table, her eyes puffy and red from crying.  Ben came and sat down next to her. He pulled her closer to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“The boys are safely deposited at school. What do you say, we go back upstairs and get some rest? Do you think you could sleep for a bit?”

“Ben, I have to show you something.” She looked him in the eye as she said it.

“Okay.” He said nervously.

She stood up and walked around to the other side of him where there was more room in the small kitchen. She turned her back to him and let her robe drop to the floor. She reached behind her and slowly pulled up her nightgown. Ben thought he was going to vomit; he had seen those marks before. There had to be at least a dozen burnt-in brands on the back of her upper thighs and butt. Rachel held her nightgown up but said nothing. They were the same brands on all of the victims of the South Side Strangler.

“Rachel,” he tried to say as calmly as he could, “you have to tell me where got those burns?”

Ben stood up and slowly walked around to face Rachel.

“Derrik Hall, he’s the friend of Rhett’s that I was talking about last night. He is the devil, Ben. He did this, Rhett sat there and watched him do this.” Rachel sobbed. “This is why I don’t like to have the lights on; I didn’t want anyone to know.”

Ben wrapped his arms tightly around her as she slowly moved to the kitchen floor. She was so upset she couldn’t stand. He helped her down as she sat on the floor and cried. Ben knew Derrik Hall had to be the name of the perp. He needed to know more, but Rachel was so fragile. He held her and stayed quiet as long as he could.

“Rachel, honey, what does Derrik look like?”

“What? Why do you want to know what he looks like? How that important in any way?”

“I have seen that brand before. Rachel, what does he look like? Honey, this is important.”

“He works with Rhett. He is our age. Maybe a little over six feet tall, white, thin.”

“What color is his hair?”

“It is dark blonde.”

Ben thought he was going to vomit again. He stood up and pulled out his phone. As it rang, Rachel stood, alarmed.

“Ben, no, you promised, you can’t tell anyone! No please.”

Ben pulled the phone away from his ear.

“Rachel, the man that has been leaving dead women all of over the city has been branding them with the same brand in the same spot. I would know it anywhere.”

The phone continued to ring. Ben put it on speakerphone as he searched through his photos for the artist rendering of the suspect.

“Is this him?”

Ben knew by the look on her face that it was. The call went to voicemail.

“Ben I don’t want to be involved in this, I don’t want my boys to know. Please.”

Ben redialed Marty’s cell. It rang two times before he picked up.

“Hey man, I’m in the evidence locker, can I call you right back?”

“The guy’s name is Derrik Hall. He works with Rhett Lawson.”

“What? What guy?”

“The guy, our guy!”

“Wait, how do you know this? It is a long story. I have a positive i.d. from one of his victims.”

“Who are you interview…” Marty stopped mid-sentence. “Rachel?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit! We got him! Are you coming in for the collar?”

“No, I need to be here. Call me when you have him.”

Rachel got up and walked out of the room as Ben finished his conversation as quickly as he could.  Marty would keep him informed of any updates. He climbed the stairs, knowing Rachel was in bad shape. He walked into the bedroom and saw her curled up on the bed.  She looked so small and fragile in the bed by herself; it broke his heart. Ben walked around the bed and knelt down beside her.

“Rachel, honey. I am sorry I had to call it in. I know how hard this was for you. You have saved a lot of lives this morning and gave justice to others that weren’t so lucky. Can you tell me how and when this happened? Please, it is really important.”

Ben noticed she had begun to tremble from the adrenaline of reliving the trauma. He stroked the side of her face.

“Honey, look at me, you are safe. I promise nothing will hurt you anymore. I think you are the strongest woman I have ever met.”

“Will you lay next to me?”

Ben kissed her cheek and came around and got in bed next to her. He thought she would roll over, but she didn’t.

“I want you to hold me from behind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I don’t want that to be taken away from me anymore. This has taken away enough in my life.”

Ben scooted up behind her but didn’t press his body against hers; he wanted his touch to be gentle. He draped his arm over her but did not hold her tightly. He felt her body tense.

“I love you and am so incredibly proud of you.” He said softly.

She laid like that as long as her body would allow until she rolled over to face him. She took a deep breath.

“I am going to try to tell you the whole story. I am not sure if I can, I’ve never told anyone all of it.” She reached for Ben’s hand, and he grabbed it gently.

“After the first time with Derrik, I wanted to leave Rhett. I didn’t know what to do. I had pushed everyone away by that point.  My own parent’s wanted me to leave Rhett; when I refused, they stopped speaking to me. They didn’t know about the abuse; they just knew I wasn’t myself. Even my relationship with Becky was strained.  I didn’t have anyone to turn to, so I went to Rhett’s mother again. She called me a dirty whore and told me to get out of her house. She thought I was having an affair, and making up some wild story to cover my tracks.

After that first time, Rhett was different. He was happy like I said, he was the man I had married. It lasted for about six months. I was dumb enough to think it would last. I was very careful not to drink and to stay aware, even though things were back to normal, part of me knew. I was so stupid. Derrik came back at; first, he just hung around the house with Rhett after work and on weekends. I told Rhett I didn’t want him in our home, Rhett ignored me.

One evening I came home from shopping. I had left the boys with Rhett for the afternoon. When I got home, he told me his mom had the kids. I knew something wasn’t right; my mother-in-law never looked after my kids. When I saw Derrik walk out of our kitchen, it sunk in, what Rhett had planned.  I never consented, I fought him. Rhett just walked out of the room.” Rachel sobbed. “ I just couldn’t understand how my husband, the man I loved, who I had children with, could be okay with all of it. The next day when I went to pick up the kids, I talked to Rhett’s father. I needed help; I wanted my marriage to work for the boys’ sake. I told him I was going to have to leave if it didn’t stop and he promised me that things would get better. Andrew was always a stern man; I believed him. He talked to Rhett, and it stopped completely, but Rhett was so unhappy and violent.

One night Rhett sat me down and told me he needed me to be with Derrik. He said he could limit to maybe once or twice a year, as messed up as it sounds, Rhett spun it as if it was just sex I… Derek was a very violent man. I imagine it would be what having sex with the devil would be like.  I thought Rhett was nuts, we both were, but I still felt that we could fix our marriage. I was so delusional. The last time Derrik came by I ended up with some of these. I didn’t scream; I didn’t want to wake the boys. I remember thinking, that it could not last forever by Monday, they would both be at work, and I would take the boys and disappear, start a new life.

The day I tried to leave, we got into the car, Tommy was three. I had Evan in his car seat, and as I loaded the car, Tommy vomited everywhere. He came down with a bug. I brought both boys in and cleaned Tommy up, but it was clear that I was going to have to leave the next day. That night, Rhett brought Derrik home with him again, I fought. I screamed, I knew I would wake the boys, but I also knew I couldn’t live through that again. A neighbor heard me screaming and called the police.  I was so beat up that the cop wrote it as domestic assault. He took Rhett to jail. I kept trying to explain that there was another man in the house, but the cop didn’t believe me. Rhett told the police I was crazy and they believed him. They searched the house but didn’t find Derek. The police said I was confused. When he took Rhett, he left Derek hiding in the house. That night I thought I was going to die, I learned Rhett had kept Derek in check.

The next morning Andrew brought Rhett home. He found Derek in the house and put an end to it. I was so out of it; I don’t remember a whole lot of it. I complied because I was terrified for the boys. Andrew had a doctor come to the house for me. Andrew came over a few days later and told me if I stayed with Rhett, that we would never see Derek again. I didn’t believe him this time. I tried to leave twice after that; Andrew found me each time. Rhett didn’t seem to care about our marriage until I disappeared. He didn’t want to be married to me if I wasn’t willing to do what he wanted.

I turned up pregnant with Luke, and Rhett didn’t want him. He thought Luke was Derek’s son. I honestly can’t say.”

Ben was speechless. He pulled her in closer as tears ran down his cheeks.

“I left a month after Luke was born. I went to Becky and told her that Rhett had been hitting me. She and her husband, Jack, me get out. By that time, I made a will and wrote down all of the abuse and put it in a safety deposit box. I wanted Becky to have the boys if something happened to me. Andrew tried to scare me, but at that point, I didn’t scare so easily. I had looked into the eyes of the devil. I knew if Andrew killed me, my boys would be safe away from Rhett. “

Ben held Rachel in bed. Neither of them said anything for a while; the noise of their breathing was the only sound that filled the sunny bedroom. Rachel propped herself up and turned to look at Ben.

“Ben, I  know this is a lot. If you don’t…”

Ben sat up before she finished.

“Do not even finish that sentence. Rachel, I love you, there is nothing that would change that. I think I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I will love you more tomorrow… We can’t change what happened to us in our past, but we choose how our future goes. Look at you, raising your three boys; you are a fantastic mother to them. Rachel, I think you are the strongest woman I have ever met.”

Ben leaned in and kissed her on the lips softly. He pulled away and caressed her cheek. She grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss into his palm.

“Do you remember you once asked me why I became a detective?”

Rachel nodded.

“I didn’t give you the full answer to that question at the time, because it didn’t feel appropriate. My mother is the reason I became a detective. She was attacked one night coming home from the grocery store. I was little, maybe seven. She was alone, and a man grabbed her. My dad couldn’t handle it, and it made him crazy that someone had hurt her. You know, I am sure she hurt, but she never showed it to me or my older brother Joel. You remind me a lot of her. That is why I became a detective, to get guys like Derek and the guy who attacked my mom off of the street.”

“Ben, I don’t know what to say.”

Ben grabbed Rachel’s hand and brought it close to him.

“You remind me a lot of her, your strength, how you are with the boys. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

“Not at all. Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“About your mom?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know about it? It isn’t exactly an open topic of conversation for most families.”

“Well, I remember a lot of it, even for being so young. I didn’t know the details until I was much older. My older brother Joel and I went to the library and thumbed through old copies of the newspaper. We found the story. I mean we had always known something bad had happened, but we didn’t know the details. I remember sitting in the old dusty basement of the library looking at pictures of my mother’s swollen face in the paper. I was so angry. I ripped the page out of the newspaper book and took off with it. I didn’t want anyone to see her like that. She was my mom. It took me three years to get the courage to finally ask her about it.”

“How did that go? I dread that conversation with my boys.”

“She was surprisingly open about it. She just said that bad things happen in life sometimes, things we can’t predict or change. It is our job to watch out for each other and the ones we love. When bad things do happen, that we focus on what is important and hold onto that tight. My brothers and I are what she held onto. From that day on, I knew what I wanted to do; I wanted to be a police officer. I wanted to help women like my mother.”

Rachel wiped a tear from Ben’s cheek and then her own.

“I want to hold onto you, Ben.”

She reached over and wrapped her arms around him, and he reached his around her. She leaned into him as he kissed the top of her head.

McKinley Park Chapter 16

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Ben led Rachel upstairs to her room, the front window of her room faced, his bedroom window across the street. He pulled back the quilt as she turned off the lamp on the nightstand. She slid off the robe underneath, a long, grey, silk slipcovered her body. Ben turned the light back on, and she looked at him surprised. The light showed the deeply colored bruises on her upper back and arms.  Rachel tried to cover the bruises on her arms, ashamed. Ben ran his fingertips over the bruise on her left shoulder blade.

“Ben.” She whispered.

He lent down and kissed the bruise, and then the one next to it, kissing every visible bruise he could see. She turned around and faced him, running her hand over his cheek.

“You are so beautiful Rachel. This is the last time you will ever have marks on your body like this.”

He leaned in and kissed her mouth, her kiss reaching into his chest and warming his heart.

He pulled away gently and grabbed the blankets pulling them further back as she took the prompt and climbed in. He pulled the blankets up over her. He reached over and switched off the lamp. Rachel reached out for him.

“Please stay?”

Ben slid off his shoes and his dress shirt. He made sure to lock his gun in his holster and he hung it high on one of the posters on the bed, where Luke could never reach it. The boy would literally have to climb on top of Ben’s head, yet it was close enough for Ben to use if needed.  He slid into the bed next to Rachel. He pulled her close as he draped his arm over her.  She didn’t want to lay on her side but, laid on her back next to him. She held onto his arm wrapped across her torso. He wanted to ask her about Rhett, about the abuse, Rhett’s past. Ben knew Rhett was involved somehow in the Southside Strangler case, he could feel it in his gut. Ben had learned that there was no such thing as a coincidence in his line of work.

Ben woke to the sound of a lawnmower, he opened his eyes, the morning light poured into the bedroom. He looked over at the bed where Rachel had slept and it was empty. He looked up to see his gun where he had left it and breathed a sigh of relief that Luke had left it alone. His phone chirped, letting him know there was a message. It was the Captain.

“Ben this is Cap. I need to see you in my office first thing this morning. We have to talk about last night with Mr. Lawson. 9:30 See you then.”

“Shit,” Ben said under his breath. He knew what was coming, he was going to be pulled off of the case if Rhett was a real suspect. He sat up, still feeling tired from the night before, and sore. He grabbed his shirt off of the end of the bed, he’d go home and freshen up before going in to meet the captain.

He came downstairs to the noise of another woman’s voice. He walked into the kitchen where Rachel’s sister sat, heavily pregnant, as Rachel scrambled eggs.

“So you must be the white knight and my hero. Hi, I am Becky. I am Rachel’s little sister.”

“Good morning.” Rachel turned towards Ben.

“Good morning. Nice to meet you, Becky. Where are the boys?”

“Luke is playing with Alex, Becky’s youngest on the back porch. Tommy and Evan are still asleep. Why?”

“I was just wondering. Hey, I have to go in this morning. I’m sorry, the Captain called. But we have to talk when I get back.”

“Are you in trouble for last night?” There was concern in Rachel’s voice.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter, it was worth it. Will you be home later to talk?”

“Yes.”

Ben put a hand up to wave goodbye to Becky as he walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room. He heard Rachel coming up behind him.

“I’ll walk you out.” She said, with a concerned look on her face.

Ben and Rachel stepped out onto the front porch. In the sunlight, Ben could see the faintest outline of a bruise on her cheek. He reached up and slid his thumb across it, and she winced in pain.

“Sorry.” He said not meaning to hurt her.

“Ben, I just wanted to thank you for last night. About later, it’s okay, I get it. This is a lot, I get it if you don’t want to do this after all. I don’t want you to risk your career.”

Ben pulled Rachel in close to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly and kissed her with everything he had in him. She pulled away breaking the seal of the kiss first, after taking a long fill first.

“Whoah, what was that for?” She asked wiping her lip, sounding embarrassed.

“None of this is too much to be with you. I see guys like Rhett everyday. You are worth it Rachel, you are so worth it.”

“I thought when you said you wanted to talk later…”

“I wanted to talk later about the next steps to putting an end to this. There will be no next time, this was the last time he will ever hurt you or the boys. I will be back around 11:30, let’s talk when I get back. I should get back here before he has made bail. If he gets back here before I do, do not under any circumstances answer the door or let him in. Call me or the police before you think you need to. I will be back as quickly as I can.”

Ben crossed the street where he had parked his car the night before. He opened the door to get in when he heard Rachel.

“Are you sure?” She yelled.

“Sure of what?”

“I’m worth it?”

“Never been more sure in my life.”

Ben watched a big smile spread across Rachel’s face and it felt wonderful that he had put it there, especially after the night before. He put his phone in the cup holder and went to shift the car into gear when he saw Rachel next to his window. He rolled it down and she leant in and kissed him.

“Come back home, I will be waiting for you.”

Ben walked into the station, still in the clothes from the day before, and stubble on his chin. Marty was waiting for him.

“Whoah, nice nose job. Lawson really did try to rearrange your face last night.” Marty jabbed.

“Please tell me the fucker hasn’t made bail.”

“No way, with his record, and assault of a police officer, a snowball’s chance in hell. I have more news though. Duke showed up this morning.”

“Where?”

“Half buried in the dump on 97th. Pretty ugly too, let’s just say not all of him is there.”

“Shit.”

Ben walked towards the door as Marty put his hand out to stop him.

“You know what you are walking into, right?”

“Yeah, is it official?”

“Lawson may be a piece of shit, but he is a connected piece of shit.”

Ben knew it was coming.

“Go in, take your punishment like a good boy and for what it is worth, I would have done the same damn thing. Hopefully, you’ll get the girl though.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

“Hey before I walk into this, you have got to look further into Rhett, he’s connected in this, I know it in my gut. I want to go back and talk to Rachel later, we didn’t get a chance last night. I did see his hands though, no burn marks.”

“Got to examine them real close, I see.” Marty joked. “You got it. I will look into him, this guy won’t have any secrets when I am done with him.”

“Thanks. Keep me in the loop if you can?”

“Of course.”

Ben walked out of the station forty-five minutes later off of the case, for now. With Rhett possibly being a real suspect, Ben couldn’t be anywhere near the case.  Leave for a couple of days the Captain called it, but nothing official.  Ben took the leave, he wanted to be around for Rachel. Ben pulled up in front of Rachel’s driveway, where Rhett’s Mercedes still sat in the driveway. He made sure to let the Captain know the car was still parked in the driveway before he left the station as well.

Ben walked in the front door, announcing his arrival.

“Hello? Anybody home?” He knew they were, the front door was open.

Rachel came down the stairs, a smile on her face at seeing him.

“You are done early. You didn’t get fired did you?”

“No. I took some time off.”

She looked at him sceptically.

“That sounds a lot like fired to me.” her tone was sarcastic.

“I was practically promoted, but I am taking a few days off. It happens from time to time. Where are the boys?”

“They went home with Becky. I didn’t want them here if Rhett came to get the car himself.”

“Good call. I’ll be here.”

Rachel yawned. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”

“I’m not. Rachel, stop apologizing for his mistakes. It is time this stops, you deserve so much more, so do your boys.”

“He doesn’t like me moving on, even though we have been divorced for three years now.”

“It’s about possession with guys like that, it’s not love, it’s control.”

“You are right.”

“Did you tell him about us last night?”

“No, Tommy did. I know he didn’t mean anything by it. How was he to know how Rhett would react? I wasn’t expecting him. He just walked in like he still lived here. Tommy said, joking around, “mom has a new boyfriend.” He meant it as a joke, and Rhett went nuts. I told the boys to go up to Tommy’s room and put on a movie. They fled from the table leaving their half-eaten dinners, I didn’t want them to see that. The kids didn’t make it out of the kitchen before he started this time. This has got to stop. I don’t want my boys to see that. They aren’t babies anymore. It isn’t so easy to hide it anymore. How did you find the boys?”

“They were outside, along the side of the house. I came to peek in the backdoor when I didn’t see you. I knew something was not right. Every light in your house was on at almost 11 pm on a weeknight and your van was parked in the driveway. My gut said you were here. I just wanted to make sure you are okay. I spotted the boys as I came around the side of the house.”

“They were so scared. When I divorced, I petitioned for sole custody but Rhett’s family hired expensive lawyers, even with the documented abuse, he still got joint custody. He told me afterwards that if I wanted to keep the boys, I needed to stay single, that was the deal, that I would always be his.”

“What?”

“ I know that is crazy.”

“No, he said you would always be his? Were those his exact words?”

“I don’t know, something like that. Why?”

“I need to ask you some questions about Rhett? Has he always been violent?”

“No, he wasn’t when we first met. He was Prince Charming when we first met. He came from a good family, and we were crazy about each other.”

“When did the abuse start?”

“After Tommy was born. He has always had a temper. The first time he ever hit me, I had Tommy in my arms. A lot changed in our marriage around then. I went to his mother and showed her the bruises. She told me that sometimes that is a price that is paid for such a charmed life and to not upset him, that it would pass. I was dumb enough to believe her. I kept it from everyone, even Becky. He would apologize each time promising it would never happen again, but it just got worse and worse..”

“I hate to ask you this, but has he ever been violent in the bedroom, when you were together.”

“Ben I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I’m sorry, there is a reason aside from us that I am asking, I promise.”

Rachel’s demeanor changed. She had gone from calm to agitated.

“Ben, please don’t ask me about that, please.”

“It is important.”

“Ben, I can’t. I just can’t talk about that.”

Ben took a deep breath.

“Do you think he could be violent with other women in the bedroom?”

“What kind of question is that? Ben I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Rachel stood up and walked out of the living room.

Ben had struck a nerve. He got up and walked into the kitchen. Rachel’s back was to the door as she looked out of the window over the sink.  A car door slammed outside and she jumped.

“He’s here to get his car.”

“I will deal with this. When he leaves we are going to file a restraining order for you and the boys and you are going to have to press charges.”

Ben walked out of the kitchen and onto the front porch. An older man who looked like Rhett stood on the first step. It had to be his father, Ben thought.

“Can I help you, Sir?”

“I am looking for Rachel, I am her father-in-law.”

“She isn’t in. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Ah, you must be the cop that worked my son over last night.”

“Is there something I can help you with Mr. Lawson?” Ben said cutting him off.

“No, I just came by to get my son’s car and to say hello to Rachel and my grandsons.”

“I will be sure to tell them you stopped by.”

Mr. Lawson Sr. looked at Ben with a look that could be lethal. Rhett may have been an uptight shit that liked to knock his ex-wife around but there was something about Lawson Sr. that Ben knew was dangerous. He could feel it radiate off of the man. Mr. Lawson walked over to Rhett’s car and got into it as the car that had dropped him off pulled away. Another Mercedes with tinted out windows. His dad pulled out of the driveway and peeled away down the street, barely stopping at the stop sign at the end of the block.

Ben turned around and walked back into the house. Rachel stood at the top of the stairs and watched Ben come back in.

“If you think Rhett is scary, Andrew is terrifying. He normally doesn’t come over. It cannot have been good that he was here.”

“I was here, he is not above the law.”

“Ben they are going to try and take the boys away from me.”

“Come on, we are going to go file those protection orders right now. I had them drawn up before I left, all you have to do is sign them.”

“If I sign them Ben, they are going to take the boys, I know it.”

“Not with Rhett’s record, no way a judge will take your boys out of your house and put them with Rhett.”

“No, you don’t understand.”

“Rachel, help me understand. You can trust me.”

“When I had Rhett served with papers, I didn’t give a warning. I took the boys out of town. Becky and her husband came with me. Rhett called me and made all sorts of threats. I turned my phone off and tried to go on with the weekend for the boys. I don’t know how they found me, but Andrew turned up at the cabin we rented in Wisconsin. I mean we were on a lake in the middle of nowhere. He told me that if I didn’t go home and make things right with Rhett, that I would never see the boys again. Jack, Becky’s husband got in the middle of it, and Andrew backed off when he realized I wasn’t there alone.

I went home and stayed with Becky and Jack for about a week, while I worked with my lawyer. I had an order of protection put in place. Andrew came to see me and told me that If I kept the boys from Rhett, I would spend the rest of my life in prison. That he would plant drugs in my car, my classroom and the house. I would be looked at as an unfit mother, he would find drug dealers to say I had traded sex for drugs. I was terrified. I told my lawyer, she had pictures of the bruises and the police reports. She told me to drop the order to keep the peace, and just play nice until the divorce was final.”

“What? What kind of attorney advices that?”

“One that my ex-Father- in- law pays off. Ben, I am terrified that they are going to take the boys. Rhett doesn’t really want them, he only wants them because he knows I won’t let them go. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he loves them, but he isn’t interested in raising them.”

“That will not happen. Come on, let’s go get all of this document. Believe me, Andrew Lawson’s power only goes so far.”

“Are you so sure of that? Because you are risking my boys if you are wrong.”

“I would never put your sons harm’s way.”

Ben held grabbed her hand gently.

“Documentation is key to all of this, trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you or the boys.”

“Ben, can I think about it? I don’t want to be pushed into this.”

“I’m not meaning to push. I’m sorry. I just know this is how this works. I am trying to help you and the boys.”

“Ben stop, please just stop.” She took a deep breath. “I need to lay down for a while, I am exhausted. I cannot think straight.” She turned to walk up the stairs and Ben followed her. She stopped and turned around. “ I would like to be alone, please.”

Ben tried not to look hurt. He was only trying to help her.

“Of course.”

Rachel turned around and walked upstairs. Ben suddenly felt like he didn’t belong in the house anymore. He locked all of the doors and then went across the street to his house. Felix was waiting for him at the door, meowing for food as Ben walked in.

“Sorry man, let me get you some food.” Ben bent down to pet the cat.

McKinley Park: Chapter 14

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***Warning, this scene has a first-person account of a sexual assault***

 

“It’s okay, just take your time. Do you recognize any of these men?” Ben reassured Serena as she sat awake in her hospital bed.

Ben and Marty got the call that she was awake as they got back to Ben’s car from the poker game. Both took off for the hospital in their own cars. The paper Ben handed to her, had the faces for a lineup, along with Stephen Duke’s mugshot, and the man who broke into her house.

“I… I’m sorry it’s hard to remember. I… he was larger than me.. I remember that. I was asleep and I woke with him on top of me. I don’t remember hearing him come in, or break in.”

“Did he talk to you?”

“Yes, I think so. It is hard to remember for sure.”

“It’s okay, can you tell us anything you do remember, it will help? Even if it seems silly or small.”

“It is all so hard to remember.”

“It’s okay, take your time.”

Serena rubbed her head.

“Detectives, do we really need to do this right now?” Her brother Dean asked from the corner of the room.

“It’s okay Dean, I can do it. I just need to concentrate and try to remember.”

“It’s best if we can get this information as early as possible. I am sorry we really should try to do it now.” Marty said quietly to Dean standing in the corner.

“You said you were asleep in your bed?” Ben asked gently.

“Yes, I was asleep. I woke because I felt something heavy land on me and it scared me. I was confused. I couldn’t move. I panicked and then I felt his hand, it was around my neck.”

Serena’s face changed as the memory of what had happened to her began to return.

“Oh my God..” She began to sob.

“Alright that is enough, you guys can come back later. This is enough.” Dean moved towards Ben and Marty to usher them out of the room.

“No, Dean. No. He can’t do this to someone else.”

“Ser, you’ve been through enough. You need to rest. The detectives can come back later.”

“No, I want to do this now. I want to get it done. I want this monster behind bars. You will catch him, right?”

“We are trying, any information helps. You are very brave and very strong to help.”

“He told me, I belonged to him. If I didn’t do what he said, he’d punish me. He had this ring on, I think it was a ring. He told me if I tried to run or scream for help he’d kill me. I needed to do what he said. He got off of me and told me to take off my t-shirt and underwear slowly for him, to strip for him. When I refused he told me that I was going to be punished.”

Serena stopped speaking as she looked off, staring at nothing in particular. There was an eerie silence in the room.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this,” Dean said as he walked out of the room.

Ben and Marty sat quietly as Serena began to cry again.

“You mentioned a ring?” Ben asked as delicately as he could.

“He, he, he lit it on fire, with a lighter… When I stood up to undress, I tried to run. I didn’t believe that he was going to let me go. He tackled me to the ground. He was so strong. I tried to get away. He flipped me onto my stomach and I heard something that sounded like a lighter. Then I felt this stinging, burning feeling on my leg.” She reached her hand under her thigh. “He burnt me. He said that I would always be his now. He ripped my clothes off, and he…he raped me on the floor of my bedroom. I tried to get away and he strangled me. I woke up in my bed. I thought it had been a nightmare but when I moved my thigh hurt, where I had been burnt. I didn’t see him or hear him, but I knew he was still there, I could feel him in the room, watching me. I was too afraid to move but I told myself to run. I wasn’t able to get up. I remember the smell of him. His body, heavy on top of me again. He told me I was bad and that I did not listen to him, and now I was going to be punished. That is the last thing I remember.”

“You did great Serena. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Okay.” She took the tissue that Ben handed her.

“When you say you remember the smell of him, can you describe it?”

“Um, he didn’t stink, I know that sounds weird. He smelled..nice, like good cologne. I mean I didn’t like it, I just remember it.”

“Do you remember the color of his eyes or hair, any distinguishing marks?”

“No, he wore a mask and it was still dark. I saw his hand, the hand with the ring, he was white.”

“Can you describe the ring?”

“Not really, it was dark. He wore it while he burnt me, it had to have burnt him too. He’d have a burn mark on his hand, right?”

“Most likely, that’s great information. Do you remember which finger he wore it on?”

“His left hand, on his ring finger I think. It was thick, like a signet ring. It has to mean something to him if it is a brand. He said I belonged to him after he burnt me. I wish I remembered more. I just can’t. How did I get here I mean, I thought he was going to kill me.”

“There was another man in your house too. He claims he broke in for drug money. Is there any chance there were two men who attacked you?”

“There were two of them? No, it was only one guy I am sure of it.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“This man was possessive. He wanted to be in charge of everything. I only remember one guy, the guy who rapped me. He was the only one there. This guy wasn’t a drug addict, he didn’t look poor, his clothes felt expensive.”

“Expensive how?”

“He had on a button down shirt, it was black. The cotton felt expensive, not cheap. It was thick. I clawed at it and pulled at it and it did not tear.”

“You are doing great Serena. Is there anything else about this man you remember? Can you tell us about his voice? Was it deep, or high, did he an accent?”

“No there wasn’t an accent. It was… normal.. friendly at first, then angry.. then..”

“Then?”

“It was almost like he was happy. It was like he got off on hurting me.”

“He probably did,” Marty said, instantly regretting sharing out loud.

Ben looked over at his partner, not believing he had said it either.

“I am sorry I don’t remember more, it is all sort of blurry still. I am really tired.”

“You’ve done great, Serena. We will let you rest now. This is my card,” Ben set it on her tray table. “If you remember anything else, even if you think it is insignificant please call me, the hour doesn’t matter.”

Serena picked up the card, studying the numbers.

“Will, someone stay, I mean a police officer? Dean said that you two have been here every night.  Do you think he will come back?”

“I am fairly certain he will not come back, most attackers don’t come back. We will have a police officer outside your room, for as long as you would like.”

“Thank you. And thank you for watching over me, while I was.. out of it.”

“Get some rest and call if you need to okay?”

Serena nodded.

“You did great tonight, really well. This information will help us catch him.” Marty said, trying to gain some good will back.

Both detectives walked out of the hospital and out to the parking lot. Ben stopped in front of his car.

“I heard the word expensive a lot,” Ben said.

“Yeah, I caught it too. One of Danwood’s players?”

“It would make sense. What are we missing here?” Ben said.

“Time to go back over these guys, none of these guys have a record, at least the guys we’ve talked to. We have the guys Yee said, including your girl’s ex.”

“He’s got the record for it for sure. You should do the digging on him though.”

Ben’s phone rang in his pocket. It was from Serena.

“Hello, Serena, did you remember something else?”

Marty perked up.

“No, I just wanted to say thank you for trying to catch this monster.”

“It’s my job. He needs to be stopped, and you helped do that tonight.”

“Good night Detective Carter.”

“Good night.”

Ben hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket.

“She’s a sweet girl,” Marty said.

Ben’s phone rang again. He reached into his pocket and answered it expecting it to be Serena again. There wasn’t anyone there at first. Ben pulled the phone away and looked at the number, it was Rachel’s.

“Hello, Rachel? Are you there?”

There was silence and then the phone hung up. Ben pulled his phone away to make sure the call disconnected. He looked down at the phone confused.

“Is everything okay?” Marty asked.

“That was weird. I wonder if Rachel dialed by accident.” Ben dialed Rachel again, “Have a good night. I will see you bright and early tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

Ben got in his car and the phone rang until it went to voicemail. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards home. Something in his gut told him to call back. He called again. This time the call was picked up but again no one spoke.

“Rachel? Are you there? Rachel? Hello?”

Silence. Then the phone hung up again.

Ben tried again, and the phone went to voicemail. He thought maybe one of the kids had the phone, his gut said that something wasn’t right.  He thought of Rachel, so afraid of Rhett, her ex, as he thought of all of the police reports he had read, he pressed his foot down a little harder.

Ben made it home in record time, parking his car on the street in front of his house. It was almost 10:30 but all of the lights were still on at Rachel’s. He looked at the driveway and saw Rhett’s black Mercedes. He didn’t want to push in, he just wanted to know Rachel was okay. He walked across the street towards Rachel’s.

He knocked on the door, the house was very quiet. Rhett opened the door.

“Can I help you, Buddy?”

“Hi, I am a friend of Rachel’s, is she in?”

“No, she’s not here. What kind of friend are you? I am her husband. Rachel is taken. What kind of male friend comes knocking at her door at this time of night. You know she has three kids upstairs, our boys, right?”

“Yes, I know your boys, I live across the street. I thought Rachel is your ex-wife?”

“Why don’t you go back across the street where you came from? There’s nothing for you over here.”

Rhett shut the door hard. Ben caught it just in time. Rhett pulled it back open.

“Fuck off neighbor, before I call the police. Get off my porch and don’t come back over here.”

“I am the police.”

“Yeah and I am the Queen of England, you heard me, fuck off.”

Rhett slammed the door and this time Ben let it shut.

Ben waited a minute, listening to Rhett walk away from the door. Ben had an experiment to try.  He knocked on the door again. Rhett’s feet slammed against the hardwood floor. Rhett flung open the door.

“I told you to fuck off!”

Ben looked at Rhett’s hands, no ring, or sign of any burns from where a ring would be.

“I am actually a detective,” Ben flashed his badge. “Will you tell Rachel I stopped by?”

“Fuck you! Go find your own piece, pig, this one is mine.”

Ben looked past Rhett, looking for any sign of a struggle, or for Rachel or the boys, but he couldn’t see anything out of place before Rhett slammed the door again. Ben waited by the front door, listening. The house was still quiet but all of the lights were on, something wasn’t right. He walked off the porch and around the side of the house. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye move towards the garage. It was dark but he could make out a silhouette.

“Mr. Carter,” he heard Rachel’s son Evan whisper as he held out his arm, beckoning Ben closer. Ben quickened his step. It was Rachel’s middle son Evan…

“Please don’t leave.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but my mom. I think my dad…” Evan stopped.

“Is your mom home now?”

Evan nodded. “You can’t tell him I told you, he’ll kill me. You have to promise you can’t tell.”

“I won’t. Do you know where your mom is in the house?”

Ben noticed more movement behind the boy.

“Evan, no!” Tommy whispered loudly.

“It’s okay Tommy, I am here to help. Where is Luke?”

Luke peeked around Tommy and then ducked back behind his big brother. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He found his house key and held it out to Evan who was closest.

“I want you boys to go to my house.” He pulled out his phone looking at the time. It was 11:02. “If I do not come back to my house by 11:30 I want you to call 911. Do you understand? Can you boys do that? You don’t have to tell them your name, just tell them your address.”

Ben knew he should have called it in himself, but he wanted to deal with Rhett personally, he knew it was wrong but he was going to do it anyway.

McKinley Park Chapter 10

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Ben woke to his phone vibrating on the nightstand. The night before with Rachel was his first thing that went through his head, followed by the buzzing noise from his phone. He rolled over to grab it, burring his face in the pillow, it still held the scent of her hair. His phone demanded his attention, he picked it up.

“Ben, we have another one, he fucked up this time though! We have another victim, but she is alive and there is DNA everywhere! I am on my way now, I don’t have the whole story yet, one of the neighbours called it in.”

“Tell me what you do know so far? Talk while I get dressed.”

Ben pulled up to Clyde Ave. just north of Irving Park, not too far from where he lived. He flashed his badge as a uniformed officer pulled the tape back so he could pull onto the street. Already the street was swarming with other cops, as reporters vied eagerly to gain any information they could from the sidelines. Ben hated the press except for when they were helpful. He pulled up to the address Marty had given. 414 Clyde Ave. It was a small brick bungalow with flower boxes and a bright green mailbox on the porch.

He parked his car and spotted his partner waiting for him.

“He really fucked up this time. Are you ready for me to make your day?”

“Yes, tell me we’ve got him.”

“Next best thing, we have a witness.”

“No shit!”

“Yep.”

They walked up the steps of the porch and into the bungalow, the house was crawling with people.

“You, who are you?”Marty said to an officer in uniform.

“O’Leary.”

“O’Leary get all of these  people out of here, you guys are contaminating the hell out of this crime scene.”

The cop nodded. “You all heard the detectives, everyone out of here.”

“Thanks,” Ben said. “You keep the door O’Leary. No one unnecessary in or out, okay?”

“Got it.”

They carefully made their way through the bungalow to the back bedroom. Ben walked up to where the attack had taken place, the bed. The room with its soft green walls didn’t feel warm and inviting, the air in the room had changed, the aftermath of a brutal attack hung heavy. One of the crime scene investigators nodded as Ben and Marty walked into the room, careful of where they stepped.

“We’re dusting down everything. He came in through the window in the bathroom.” The tech motioned to the en-suite bathroom. “He didn’t have time to clean up, there is going to be DNA everywhere.”

“Where is our witness?”

“In the kitchen, I haven’t talked to him yet. The girl was leaving in a bus when I got here. She’s alive, barely. They are taking her to Methodist, she’s in bad shape. It will be a miracle if she survives.”

“Raped?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, the EMT’s thought so,” Marty said.

“Let’s go talk to our witness”

Ben and Marty wanted to look around the room but didn’t want to risk contaminating the scene. They wanted the crime scene techs to do their work then they would come in and poke around afterwards.

“This doesn’t sound like our guy at all, our guy has never been sloppy. Are we sure this is connected?”

“He branded her Ben, same brand, same spot.”

“Shit, are you sure?”

“I saw it myself before she left.”

“You are sure that was the exact brand?”

“Certain.”

Ben and Marty walked back into the empty living room. O’Leary had done a good job clearing the house. Two uniformed cops stood in the kitchen where a thin man sat at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands.

“The witness?”

“Yeah,” Marty said.

Both detectives walked into the kitchen, their dress shirts sticking to their bodies. The air conditioning in the house was turned off by the crime scene team.  It was hot and humid, another impending storm charged the air with electricity.

“Has anyone talked to him yet?” Ben asked quietly.

“No. Our guy’s a little sketchy with us. I don’t think he was here to be law-abiding himself.”

“B. & E?”

“That’s what it was called in for.”

“What are the chances a perp breaks in during an assault?”

Both detectives looked at each other.

They stepped further into the kitchen, walking up the table where the man sat. His clothes dirty and old and hung from his frail frame. He wore a face of stubble and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. His body language gave away that he was jonesing for another fix of whatever his drug of choice was. He wasn’t an ideal witness, but it was the best they had so far.

“Mr Daniels, I am Detective Ben Carter.” Ben held out his hand as he took a seat.

“John,” the man shook Ben’s hand.

“Hi, John. Can we talk to you about what you witnessed this morning?”

John shifted as nervousness radiated from him. Marty sat a recorder on the middle of the table. As he took a seat and moved in closer. It made John nervous, his body language giving away his unease.

“John, we can help you if you cooperate with us. Can you tell us why you were breaking in here, and can you tell us what you saw?”

“I didn’t hurt her, I swear. I had no idea.”

“Can you tell us why you broke in?”

The man stayed silent.

“Dispatch said you called the ambulance, is that correct?”

He nodded.

“John, it sounds like this girl is alive because of you. You have saved someone’s life this morning.”

The man rubbed the back of his neck again, beads of sweat had appeared on his brow. He looked down at the started to speak.

“I was told to come here, that no one would be here.”

“Who told you to come here?”

“This guy I met in a bar, I was asking for money in the bar. The bartender threw me out.”

“When did this happen?”

“Two nights ago at Smithy’s in Pilsen.”

“Did you catch the guy’s name?”

“It was something royal, knight or something.”

“Duke?”

“Yeah, that’s it. He came out of the bar, saw I was needing a fix. He handed me some money. Then he told me about this house. Said I could crash here, he told this story about how this guy who lives here helped him get clean and all. He told me to come over anytime.”

“Is that why you came here?”

“At first yeah, but I jumped the fence and the back door was open so I let myself in. I thought if I could find something to sell, get a fix then I could come back and I would be ready to get help from this guy.”

“Okay. Did you hear anything when you walked in, see anything odd?”

“I tried to be quiet when I came in, I didn’t want to get caught. I spotted the lady’s purse on the counter. I was going to grab it and go but then I heard something, like grunting. I knew what the sound was. I wanted to.. I just wondered, you know… I snuck down the hall and peeked through the gap between the door doorjamb.”

“What did you see? We need you to be as detailed as you can. This is really important John.”

“They couldn’t see me. This guy was mad. He was hitting her, hard, over and over again. I knew this wasn’t right, something was wrong, this wasn’t normal rough shit. She stopped fighting him and just went kind of limp, but he kept going. I went to move away and the floor creaked, the noise spooked the guy. He hit her hard, like really hard on the head. It sounded like a melon cracking. He was going to hit her again. I started shouting at him, I didn’t want to see this chick’s head split open. I’m not a good person, but I ain’t going to sit by and watch some girl get murdered. He took off past me and pushed me out of the way.

I thought he killed her. I really did. I was going to leave, you know, grab her purse and get the hell out of here. She didn’t move and I didn’t want any part of a dead girl  I don’t need no trouble. I turned to go, and I thought I heard her. I turned back around and she moaned a little, she was alive. I went over and turned her over. She was bleeding from her face everywhere man. I’ve never seen anyone bleed from their eyes, that’s some creepy shit. She was naked, he beat the shit out of her. I couldn’t leave her there. I put my jacket over her and went to the neighbours over there and told them to call you guys. I went back to her and waited so you all would find her. She wasn’t awake when I got back. I thought she was dead, but then the ambulance guys said she wasn’t so I don’t know. Then your cop buddies arrested me for breaking and entering. Sure I came in but I didn’t steal anything.”

“We’ll see what we can do if this information helps us catch this guy. Can you tell us what he looked like? Was it the guy from the bar?”

“ No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, this guy was built different. It wasn’t the same guy.”

“Can you describe what this guy from this morning looked like?”

“The sun had only just come up so it wasn’t real light out yet.”

“Was he a big guy, a little guy, fat, skinny?”

“He was taller than me, not fat.”

“Was he black or white?”

“White I think?”

“Why do you think he was white?”

“Well he had on a black sweater shirt thing and black pants, and well, his ass was white, so..”

“Did you see his face or his hair?”

“No, he had on one of those ski masks things.”

“How about eye color?”

“It was too dark to see.”

“How tall are you John?”

“About six feet.”

“Was he taller or shorter than you?”

“A little taller I think.”

John began to pick at the scabs on his arms. He was jonesing hard.

“Can you tell us a little more about what he was wearing?” Marty asked.

“It was hard to see, a black shirt or sweater, black pants and boots, black boots and a mask on his face.”

John picked harder at a large scab on the back of his hand.

“Did you see the guy leave? Was he on foot, or did he leave in a car?”

John stayed silent.

“Look, John, I’ll level with you, If you were here to get some cash to score, we can help. Maybe help you get in a treatment center.”

John looked at Ben then at Marty.

“As my partner said, John, we really need your help here.”

John stayed quiet, so did Ben and Marty. The air became uncomfortable between the three men. John continued to pick at his arms even now that they were bleeding in several spots.

“He got in a car I think. It pulled away when I got to the front door.”

“Was it a car, a van, a truck?” Marty asked, impatience thick in his voice.

“There was a car. I thought it was a cop at first.”

“What color was the car?”

“White.”

“Did it look like a police car?”

“Shit, man, I don’t know, my head is killing me. I just need to get out of here and go home, man.”

“Look we are almost done, I promise. You said you thought it looked like a police car?”

“No, shit, I don’t know.”

“How many doors did it have?”

“Four I think.” John rubbed the back of his neck. He was becoming more agitated by the minute.

“Was it American made? Like police cars? Was it old or new?”

“Old I think. Maybe a Ford. Like a Ford Focus maybe?”

“That’s great John.”

“Did you see the plate?” Ben asked.

“No. I just didn’t look. I wasn’t here to car shop.”

Ben’s phone rang and he looked down at the number. It was Methodist Hospital. He nodded to Marty communicating that he needed to take it. Ben walked out of the kitchen to take the call and returned just as Marty finished questioning John. Two cops walked in to arrest John.

“Thank you, John. You saved that girl’s life today.”

“I helped you, I thought you said I could go if I helped you.”

“I said we’d get you some help if you wanted. We also need to get some fingerprints from you and that sort of thing.”

“That is bullshit. Let me go.”

John started to buck away from the cop who had cuffed him.

“John if you want help this is how we have to start the process. You have to go before a judge.”

“Fuck you man,” John shouted as he was led out of the house in cuffs.

“His brain is mush until he scores again. He’s spent. Who was on the phone?” Marty said.

“The hospital, our victim is in a coma. You were right about the brand, by the way, they’re less than 24 hours old. I am going to head over there. I want to be there when she wakes up. No one should wake from that alone, at least until we can locate her family.”

“Good idea. I will find her family and let them know.  We are going to finally get this sick bastard.”

“Yeah, we are. After her family gets there I have to go find Stephen Duke, the bastard knows more than he’s saying. This is the second victim he’s connected to.”

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow-Up?

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I always find that question a bit odd, what do you want to be when you grow up?  It is especially odd when it is asked to small children. There are some people out there practically born knowing what they want to do for a living, and then there are those of us who are still trying to figure it out. I have a very dear friend, practically family, who is a generation older than I am and she still often jokes about what she wants to do when she “grows-up.” I love this idea because I am not one of those lucky individuals who was born knowing what I want to do, it has taken a long time to find my passion. We are always growing, and that is a good thing.

Growing up I was taught that life was something you survived, it happened to you but not as an active participant, but a passive one. When I met my husband I remember him telling me how backward this idea was. I had never seen one make goals, and actively work in life to achieve them, in a big way. Not long after we had started dating, I had to leave college, my parents were paying for me to attend a private art school, and simply could not afford for me to go back. I was devastated. I took a job as a hostess in a Greek-owned restaurant, it was an experience, to say the least. The point was, I was miserable. I felt like I was being resigned to a fate that I did not want, to be poor and uneducated. I remember complaining about it one day to my boyfriend, who became my husband. He turned to me and said, “it is your life, if you do not like it, change it.” I dismissed him and started to rattle off all of the excuses why I couldn’t change it. He stopped me, and repeated it again, and said, “Jack, you are in charge of your life, it is up to you to make it what you want it to be, no one else.” That time it clicked.

That concept hit hard, and I realized that if I wanted things to change, it would be me that would have to change them. My parents, friends or extended family weren’t going to have to do it for me, I was going to have to make changes for myself. It wasn’t an overnight change in habit, but eventually, I began to stop blaming others and re-focus my energy in making real and lasting changes in my life. Five years ago, I took the biggest step and walked away from a dangerous, abusive relationship with a family member. I made the choice, I took the step. It was incredibly difficult but I found that I was so much stronger than I ever thought I could have been.

Once I was away, from that dangerous and dysfunctional situation, my life really did change for the better. I am not going to say it was easy, it wasn’t at all. But it was a springboard for me, catapulting me to begin to have dreams and desires. I was living in “survival mode” for so long, I couldn’t fully grab onto my own life. My point here is, that really only within the past eighteen months have I began to search and make conscious decisions about what and who I want to be when I “grow up.” I have begun to find my dreams again, old ones and discover new ones.

What I find so interesting about all of this, is more than anything I want to be a published author, and be successful enough to support myself that way. I have taken control and written a work that I am immensely proud of, did all of the research I could about querying, and have started querying to find a literary agent. Here is where the irony comes in, I have done everything in my power to make the dream a reality, but now it is out of my hands. I am having to be a passive participant, hoping an agent sees something in me to pick me up as a client. To say that this is a difficult process is an understatement. Please do not misunderstand, this is not a complaint, but merely an observation. Having been a linebacker in my own life, pushing through what I want, it is hard to wait for the ball to be passed, and the touchdown to be scored. (Sorry if the football analogy doesn’t’ make any sense, I am rubbish at sports.)

At this point in my life, and only at this point in my life have I figured out what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a bestselling author, publishing romance novels, and spreading love one story at a time. So, my growing-up and learning continue, in a new life lesson, knowing when to move the ball down the field and when to pass it to the next person who can!