Chapter 45

        By the time Johnny and Roy reported to work on Thursday morning Roy thought he saw a vast improvement in his friend physically speaking. Roy suspected his presence in Johnny's home allowed the man to relax in a way he hadn't since receiving that first letter. Maybe the watchful part of Johnny's brain shut itself down knowing Roy would take over listening for any odd sounds that might indicate someone was lurking about in the darkness. Or maybe it was just knowing he had Roy's support through all this that allowed Johnny to finally give into his exhaustion. Whatever it wasn't didn't make any difference to the blond man. All he cared about was that Johnny ate, slept, and unwound a little bit during their off time.

        No more letters arrived during that four day time span, and no mysterious gifts were left on Johnny's property. Roy was thankful for both those happenings though, as well, couldn't help but conclude that was an indication Johnny was being watched. He surmised Johnny had come to the same conclusion despite the fact an unmarked police car continuously circled the area surrounding the ranch.

        The morning calls Roy and Johnny went on that day were more amusing than they were eventful. There was the eight year old boy stuck halfway through a doggie door as he tried to sneak back in the house after skipping school. Then came the man with fishing lures jammed in his backside, that painful action occurring when he tripped and fell on top of his open tackle box. And finally, right before lunch, the elderly woman who was sure aliens had landed in her back yard the previous evening and just thought someone should know. She didn't look too convinced when Johnny explained to her the ruts she was seeing had been made by a mini-bike. She walked back into her house mumbling, "The fire department must hire any nitwit who applies for a job now days," which caused Roy to burst into laughter despite the mock glare his partner shot him.

        It was four o'clock when Station 51 was summoned to a structure fire at a warehouse. Roy recognized the address as being in an aging part of the city that had long ago been abandoned by business owners and residents alike.

        At least we shouldn't have to do a rescue, the senior paramedic thought as he pulled the squad into the start of rush hour traffic. Every so often it's nice to just be a hose jockey.

        Roy had a feeling Johnny was thinking the same thing when they drove up to the huge building. Flames shot high through the roof as black smoke billowed into the air like a miniature tornado.

        These old buildings are solid wood. It's a sure bet this will burn like a house made of matchsticks.

        Station 36, Station 10, and Station 19 pulled up behind 51, though none of their paramedics had been called out. Before Johnny or Roy had a chance to get their instructions from Captain Stanley two boys darted from the other side of the street. They were both carrying schoolbooks, and neither looked to be over twelve. One grabbed onto the sleeve of Johnny's turnout coat and tugged.

        "Hey, mister!"

        Johnny swiveled to find himself looking into a pair of blue eyes wide with excitement, capped by a mop of thick white-blond hair.

        "Go on," Johnny instructed with a wave of his hand. "You and your friend get on outta here before one of you gets hurt."

        "But, Mister," the other boy yelled over the roar of the fire, "there's someone in there!"

        Roy followed the finger the red headed boy used to point with.

        "In the warehouse?"

        "Yeah. He went in to get his stuff!"

        "And his dog!" The blond boy added.

        Roy turned to his partner.

        "Whatta ya' think?"

        "Probably some homeless guy who's been usin' this as a place to crash," Johnny said as he opened the long compartment that held their air tanks.

        Roy silently agreed. He ran toward Captain Stanley to relay the information the boys had given him.

        So much for being a hose jockey.

        By the time Roy and Johnny were slipping the straps of their tanks over their shoulders the boys who had alerted them were blocks away. They stopped running once they could no longer see the flames from the fire. The red headed boy pulled the twenty dollar bill out of his pocket the stranger had given him and his friend to tell the Station 51 paramedics he was in the building. Why someone would deliberately run into the middle of a fire the boy didn't know. He momentarily wondered if he and his buddy had done something wrong by accepting the man's money and then telling the paramedics he needed help.

        He also wondered why it was so important that they only tell their story to the paramedics from Station 51, as opposed to any old fireman they ran across.
        

___________________________________        

        Hank Stanley hated this type of rescue more than any other. When an abandoned structure was burning you had no one to question about the layout of the building, and therefore had little information to pass onto your men. He didn't like the idea of Johnny and Roy entering the burning warehouse based upon the words of a couple kids. He liked it even less when he turned around to find the boys in order to talk to them himself, only to discover they were gone.

        The warehouse was so vast that when Johnny and Roy first entered they encountered no flames and very little smoke. They quickly determined the majority of the fire was contained far above them, on the upper floor loft. That was both good and bad. Good because they had fairly clear visibility for the time being, but bad because everything above them could come down on top of them if they didn't pay close attention to how fast the fire was spreading.

        Roy pointed east, indicating he was going in that direction. Johnny nodded. Using his own index finger, he pointed west.

        The two men had worked together long enough not to need an exchange of words. It was understood between them that when they finished searching their sections of the ground floor they'd meet back here by the double doors and contact Cap before deciding if a search of the wide loft was necessary, or even feasible.

        The half of the warehouse Roy took contained offices that hadn't been used in years. He spotted an old time clock outside one, a battered filing cabinet inside another, and a metal sign that read, Support The War Effort, in another, but for the most part each room had been emptied of all furnishings years earlier.

        Roy opened doors and yelled, "Fire Department! Anyone in here?" more times than he could count. He used his stick of chalk to X the door of each room he secured.

Johnny was able to move more quickly than his partner through his half of the building. There were no offices on the west end, and whatever had been manufactured or stored here was long gone. Like Roy, he continuously hollered, "Fire Department! Anyone in here?" but received no answer.

        Damn kids. If they were screwin' around with us I swear I'll skin them alive when I get my hands on 'em.

        The crackling of flames overhead made Johnny look up. He did a double take when he saw a man leaning over the wooden railing forty feet above him. There was enough smoke surrounding the man so Johnny couldn't get a clear view of his face. He got the impression the guy was taller than himself, and powerfully built, but he couldn't say that for certain.

        "Hey! Get down here!"

        The man shook his head. "You come up here!"

        What the...is this guy crazy or what?

        "This whole place is gonna go! Now get to the stairs and come down!"

        Before the conversation could go any farther the man disappeared into the thick smoke. Johnny waited a few seconds, expecting to see him running down the wooden staircase that emptied into the center of the building. When no one appeared Johnny looked for Roy. When he didn't see his partner coming back from the east side of the building he retrieved his Handie Talkie from his pocket. He spoke into it as he took the stairs two at a time.

        "Engine 51, this is John. I've spotted a man on the second floor. I'm going up to get him."

        Johnny could barely hear his Captain's response as he got closer to the source of the flames.

        "Make it quick, pal. That second floor isn't going to hold long."

        "10-4, Cap."

        Johnny returned the Handie Talkie to his pocket as his right foot hit the second floor landing. He squinted into the dense smoke.

        Now where the hell did he go?

        Johnny walked a few feet from the landing. Because of the smoke he could barely see the arc of water spraying into the building at the far end. Before he had a chance to do any more of a visual search a voice spoke from behind him. Despite the suffocating heat, a shiver ran up the paramedic's spine.

        "Well, well, well...if it isn't Uncle Johnny. My old friend, and long-time nemesis, John Gage."

        Johnny pivoted, which he immediately realized was a mistake. The force of a baseball bat hitting the side of his skull knocked him off his feet. The only thing that saved him from losing consciousness was his helmet. The bat's blow was somewhat deflected by its rim. Somewhat, but not completely. Johnny saw stars as his chin slammed against the rough boards that made up the second floor. The strap on his helmet snapped, causing that piece of safety equipment to bounce beyond his reach. He felt his air mask being ripped off next and shoved behind his back.

        "No need for this where you're going, Johnny."

        John swallowed back a wave of nausea as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He could feel blood running down the left side of his face, and his vision was blurry. Not so blurry; however, as to be unable to determine who his adversary was. He refused to allow his shock to show. Johnny would never give this bastard the satisfaction of thinking he'd pulled one over on him.

        The paramedic struggled to his feet. He swayed back and forth, gasping for a breath of uncontaminated air. When the room stopped spinning he forced back a cough, looked his opponent in the eye and asked one question.

        "Why?"

        "Why what, Injun Boy? Why the letters? Why the roller skate? Why the tennis shoe? Hell, John, you've lost your sense of humor. Because why is as simple as this...it was fun."

Johnny knew all too well what this man was capable of if given the opportunity. He knew his best chance at survival was to keep his assailant talking while trying to inch for the stairs.

        "Fun?" A bout of strong coughing almost toppled Johnny to the floor again. He squinted, but wasn't able to see more than five feet in front of his face. He could hear the fire getting closer. The last place he wanted to be was standing on the burning second story of this warehouse. "Look, you might call this fun, but I've got news for you, if this floor gives way, which I guarantee you it will, neither one of us is gonna be having much fun."

        "Gage, I haven't had fun in eleven years. As a matter of fact, all I've been doin' is hiding. Running from town to town. Moving from job to job. Changing my name as I go. And it's all your fault. You took everything from me that should have been mine."

        Johnny gave a mirthless laugh. "I took everything from you? I see not much has changed over the years. Your shoe size still out measures your I.Q."

        In a split second the paramedic realized his smart mouth had once again
gotten him in trouble.

        You'd think I'd have learned by now. Mom always told me I'd be better off if I thought before I spoke.

        The baseball bat slammed into Johnny's right arm with a loud, "Whack!"
He stifled a yelp as the pain caused him to double over and grab onto the injured appendage with his other hand.

        "You did take everything from me, Gage! You did! She...she was so pure. So sweet. What she saw in the likes of a half breed like you I never figured out."

        Johnny looked up into his opponent's blue eyes. He ignored the pain screaming through his arm and lancing through his skull when he said, "What she saw was someone who loved her."

        This time Johnny was ready when the bat arced above him. He jumped backwards, the blow that was meant for the top of his skull missing him by less than an inch.

        "I loved her!" The enraged man screamed over the sounds of the fire. "I loved her first! She was mine! Mine until you came along and stole her from me!"

        Johnny danced out of the way as the baseball bat flew back and forth over and over again. It clipped his arm once more, and then his hip, but he kept moving. The only problem was, he was headed in the wrong direction...toward the fire instead of away from it.

        Stay calm, Johnny chastised himself as his eyes watered from both pain and smoke. You've got to stay calm if you're going to get out of here alive.

        Johnny tried his best to lead his attacker back toward the stairway, but the man blocked his path. Between the heat, the smoke, the weight of the air tank on his back, and his injuries, Johnny knew it would only be a matter of time before he collapsed in a semi-conscious heap on the floor. He refused to allow himself to think of anything else but survival. If his mind wandered too far into the past he knew he'd simply give up and let the man kill him now.

        Get to the stairs, Gage. Get to the damn stairs. You always could out run him. If you get that far you can make a break for it.

        Johnny wasn't sure how many blows from the bat he dodged versus how many connected. He felt like Mohammed Ali as he danced and shuffled while trying to avoid being hit on the head again. All the while his enraged assailant was screaming at him, seemingly not bothered by the dangers that would prompt a sane man to flee.

        "They called you a hero in the paper! A hero! Bet you didn't tell them about the last time, hero! How you couldn't save Kim! So now you think you're tough shit 'cause you're a macho fireman! Well you ain't tough shit! It was because of you, John! It's because of you that she's dead! And I bet she knew it! I bet she knew it as she took her last breath!"

        It was then that eleven years of self-control snapped. Johnny bent over at the waist and charged forward. He rammed his head into his attacker's midsection. He heard the man give a loud, "Oof!" as they tumbled to the floor. The men latched onto each other's arms. They rolled three times before Johnny ended up on the bottom. His air tank was nothing but a hindrance. It prevented him from getting the leverage he needed to push his opponent off his chest. A beefy fist connected with his jaw, and then with his cheekbone. This time the stars he saw were heavily layered in black. He felt the big hands grab the shoulders of his turnout coat. He struggled as he was dragged towards the railing, but couldn't break free. He knew he was going to be tossed over and briefly wondered what his chances of surviving the forty foot fall would be.

        Not good, the paramedic portion of his brain told him. Not good at all.

        Johnny could feel flames nipping at his turnout pants. He contemplated what would be worse, dying from a two story fall or dying from third degree burns. Neither sounded particularly appealing, and he found himself praying whatever happened would just be over soon.

        The possibility that John Gage would have met his maker that day was high, except for one thing. Chester B. Kelly. As far as Chet knew no one was on the second floor. He was the first man at the top of the ladder that was propped against the outside of the building. Marco was directly behind Chet with two firemen from Station 19 bringing up the rear. Chet held on tight to both the ladder and the hose when he felt the water coming through. The smoke was so thick he couldn't see where he was aiming when he pointed the nozzle through the second story window.

        The force of the water hitting him square in the back flipped Johnny's attacker into the air like a rag doll. His hands flailed, trying to grab onto whatever was available. By nothing more than luck he managed to nab a portion of the railing. Johnny saw flames devouring the wood just inches away from his adversary.

        The man screamed as he jerked his right hand from the railing. Johnny could smell the distinct odor of burnt flesh.

        "Hold on!" Johnny shouted. "Hold on! I'm coming!"

        Johnny scrambled toward the man. He was within three feet of him when the fire devoured the remainder of the railing. John hollered, "No!" as he lunged forward. At the same time the man screamed.

        The fire had reached his left hand.

        He let go of the railing.

        Through smoke-filled, red-rimmed eyes; Johnny couldn't do anything other than watch him fall.

Chapter 46

        Roy DeSoto finished his tour of the north end of the building.

        Better see if Johnny needs my help. We don't have much time left. That second story doesn't look too sturd...what the hell!

        Roy would have thought someone had tossed a dummy over the railing if he hadn't heard the distinct 'splat' a body makes when it hits hard ground. A dozen questions swirled through his mind as he ran to the victim. Before he even reached for the pulse point at the man's throat Roy was well aware he wouldn't find a beat. By the way the man's head was angled the paramedic knew his neck was broken.

        Roy's next instinct was to look up. He saw the upper half of his partner's body hanging over the second floor loft. Fire flicked around Johnny and burned what little was left of the railing just inches above his head.

        What's going on?

        Roy didn't waste time pondering his question. Like Johnny had done earlier, he took the stairs two at a time.

        "Johnny!" He yelled as he ran to Johnny's side. "John!"

        The paramedic knew there wasn't time for any type of medical assessment. He lifted his partner to his feet and brought Johnny's left arm across his shoulders. He half dragged, half carried his friend to the stairs.

        The flames chased Roy and Johnny down the steps. How Roy managed to stay ahead of them with the additional burden of his partner's weight he never knew. He heard the second floor giving way as he dragged Johnny out of the building. Hank Stanley saw them coming and ran to help Roy. The first sign of life Johnny gave was when the captain tried to put John's injured right arm across his shoulder. Johnny cried out in pain, then doubled over coughing.

        "Sorry, pal," Hank murmured as he and Roy raced for the squad with Johnny between them.

        They removed Johnny's air tank then eased him to the sidewalk in a sitting position, allowing him to lean back against the squad. Roy kept one firm hand in the center of his partner's chest and the other on his left shoulder. The last thing he wanted was to have Johnny topple over and injure himself further.

        While Roy filled his captain in on what little he knew of the events that transpired in the warehouse, Hank opened various compartments and was soon hauling the trauma box, drug box, bio-phone, and oxygen to Roy's side.

        "Thanks, Cap."

        Hank nodded as he pulled his Handie Talkie from the pocket of his turnout coat.

        "L.A., this is Engine 51. I have a Code I at our location. Respond an ambulance and another paramedic unit."

        "10-4, 51."

        Hank crouched down beside Roy. "Need my help?"

        "Yeah. When I'm ready I want you to relay his vitals to Rampart for me."

        "All right."

        The captain opened the box that contained the bio-phone and set the antennae up while Roy examined his patient. Blood and sweat mixed together to run down Johnny's face. Roy dabbed at the blood with a thick pad of gauze until he determined its source. He checked his partner's eyes with his penlight, then spoke to Johnny as he began to unbuckle the latches on his turnout coat.

        "I'm going to get this off of you, Johnny. Can you sit forward for me?"

        When Roy got no response other than a vacant stare he spoke louder.

        "Johnny? Johnny, I need you to sit forward so I can get your coat off. John?
Johnny!"

        "What's wrong?" Hank asked as he scooted closer in order to see around Roy's body.

        "I don't know. He appears to be in shock of some sort." Roy turned his attention back to his partner. "Johnny! John!"

        Roy's shouts finally brought Johnny out of his self-imposed trance. He looked up at his partner as though he was registering Roy's presence for the first time since they'd parted ways inside the building twenty minutes earlier. Roy had to strain to hear the man over the sounds of the fire, sirens, and men's shouts.

        "What, Johnny? What did you say?"

        In a voice barely above a whisper Johnny repeated, "It was him. It was him all summer long."

        "Who are you talking about? The guy in the warehouse?"

        "I...he set me up. It was him. The shoe, the skate, the letters...it was him."

        And with that Johnny turned his head and vomited. Roy held Johnny's shoulders to keep him upright as his stomach emptied itself with a vengeance. Hank was never so glad to see another paramedic unit arrive as he was that day. Roy had his hands full just trying to support Johnny as the vomiting gave way to the dry heaves.

        Captain Stanley briefed the paramedics from Station 19 on what little he knew of Johnny's condition, then stepped out of the way. He spoke into the Handie Talkie again, this time making a request of a very different sort.

        "L.A., this is Engine 51. The fire at our location is a probable arson. Also, contact Detective Mark Bellmen at the L.A.P. D. Tell him..." Hank paused a moment to look at Johnny. Roy had his turnout coat off of him now as well as his shirt. Hank could see the deep bruises already beginning to form on John's arms, chest, and shoulders that indicated he'd been beaten with some sort of blunt instrument. Johnny was leaning back against the squad again, staring at the burning building with a vacant glaze to his eyes. He didn't appear to notice the ministrations of his partner and 19's paramedics. This compliance on Johnny's part was completely out of character. Hank wished for nothing more than to hear Johnny grumble at Roy to put the B/P cuff away, or to tell Roy it wasn't necessary to contact Rampart while pushing himself to his feet. But Johnny did none of those things. As he sat there pale and shivering Hank thought he looked alone. Desperately alone. Which seemed rather odd considering Johnny's best friend was right beside him. Nonetheless, Hank couldn't shake that feeling.

        The Handie Talkie squawked.

        "Engine 51, can you repeat your last request? The transmission broke up."

        "Uh...yes, L.A. Sorry." Hank turned away from the paramedics before speaking again. "Please contact Detective Mark Bellmen at the L.A.P.D. Tell him it concerns the matter with John Gage."

        "Copy, 51. 10-4"

        "10-4, L.A."

        Ten minutes later the ambulance pulled up that would carry Johnny to Rampart. Roy rode with his partner while one of the paramedics from 19's followed in their squad, and the other one drove 51's squad so Roy would have a way to get back his station.

        Five minutes after the ambulance left the arson investigator arrived. Twenty minutes after that Mark Bellmen arrived with a young blond man Hank had never seen before. The captain told the two men of the events that had taken place since the fire department had arrived on the scene.

        "DeSoto says there's a body in there. Says the guy fell from the second story. There's no doubt Gage was beaten at some point while he was in there."

        "What are his injuries?" Mark asked.

        "Probable concussion. Other than that I saw a lot of bruises on his chest and arms. No bones are broken that I know of, but I'll get a full report after the doctors at Rampart have had a chance to examine him."

        Detective Bellmen nodded. For the time being he couldn't do anything but wait until the fire was under control. He was anxious to get inside the warehouse and take a look at the body Captain Stanley mentioned, and he was anxious to talk to John Gage. However; neither of those things was going to happen soon. He watched the firemen spray water on the burning building before turning to Troy.

        "Troy Boy, hope you had a big lunch because I think we're in for a long night."

        As Mark thought of all this case had involved since the Sunday in April he had sat interviewing the DeSoto children at Rampart Hospital he added, "A very long night."

Chapter 47

        At ten o'clock that evening John Gage was in a hospital room. He'd suffered a concussion, smoke inhalation, and was dotted with multiple bruises and lacerations. Kelly Brackett had put fourteen stitches in Johnny's scalp halfway between his left ear and temple, but at least he hadn't suffered a skull fracture or any other broken bones as a result of the beating he'd endured.

        What time Roy went back to the station Johnny wasn't sure. He vaguely recalled Roy hanging around until all the tests were complete Brackett wanted run, and he thought Roy had even come in this room to tell him he'd see him tomorrow, but again, Johnny couldn't be certain. But then he wasn't certain of much of anything since he'd been dragged out of that warehouse.

        Johnny felt like he was moving within a dream. There was a part of him that knew Brackett, Roy, and Dixie were concerned because he wasn't verbally responding to them, but there was an even larger part that didn't care. Every so often Dixie would come in this room and sit on the side of his bed, but he never turned his head to look at her. Brackett had done the same thing a few minutes ago, which Johnny found funny in some remote corner of his brain.

        If I'm not in the mood to shoot the bull with Dix, I'm definitely not in the mood to shoot it with you, Doc.

        While Johnny remained in his own self-imposed isolation, Kelly Brackett stood at the third floor nurse's station writing in the paramedic's chart.

        "I want his neurological responses monitored every half hour throughout the night, Sharon," Kelly instructed the head nurse. "If he remains stable, and we detect no problems as a result of that blow to the head he took, then when I arrive in the morning I'll order a sedative so he can get some uninterrupted sleep."

        "What about his demeanor? Dixie said he's refusing to talk to anyone. That's not like Johnny. Usually we can't get him to shut up."

        "No, usually we can't," Brackett smiled. "At least not when he's conscious. As far as his demeanor goes...he's been through a lot this afternoon. And over the past few weeks as well from what Roy told me. Maybe he just needs some time to sort everything out. But in the event there's more to it medically speaking, that's why I'm ordering neurological checks on the half hour rather than the hour."

        "Yes, Doctor," the woman nodded.

        Kelly returned the chart to the rack. As he stepped around the counter he saw the elevator open. Dixie walked out with Mark Bellmen at her side.

        "Every time Johnny's our patient I run into this guy," Dixie joked. "Or so it seems anyway."

        "Yes, that is how it seems," Mark chuckled. He sobered as he turned his attention to Brackett. "Miss McCall filled me in on John's condition. Would it be possible for me to talk to him?"

        Kelly's eyes flicked to Dixie. She nodded her head, indicating to the doctor she had told the detective Johnny wasn't communicating with anyone right now.

        "I think whatever questions you have for Johnny would best wait until sometime late in the day tomorrow. I won't be releasing him until Saturday morning at the earliest. At the present time he needs to rest."

        "I understand that, Doctor. But right now I have to confirm the charred body we took from the warehouse is that of the man who's been murdering little girls all across the United States. John Gage is the only person who can give me that information."

        Kelly chewed on his lower lip several long seconds before giving in.

        "All right," he sighed. "But mind you that's a reluctant all right. Five minutes and no more. Any other questioning has to be put on hold until tomorrow afternoon."

        "I understand," Bellmen agreed.

        Mark could hardly contain his excitement as he walked with Kelly Brackett and Dixie McCall to Johnny's room. He was certain John Gage would confirm the dead man's identity as being that of the person who'd nearly killed him on the mountain. If so, this would be a feather in Mark Bellmen's cap of far reaching proportions.

        Early retirement, here I come.

Johnny didn't turn his head when he heard the door open. A dim light was on over his bed allowing Bellmen to see the ugly blue and purple bruise on his jaw, and the row of stitches in his scalp. He was on an IV of saline, as well as receiving oxygen via a nasal cannula. Dixie had told Mark this first measure was simply a precaution against dehydration, and the last measure was normal treatment for a mild case of smoke inhalation.

        Based on the footsteps that crossed the room Johnny knew three people had come to stand beside his bed. He wondered if Roy was back for some reason. He hoped his friend hadn't asked Cap to go off-shift. He hated the thought of Roy's paycheck being slim because of him.

        "Johnny," Doctor Brackett beckoned in a quiet voice, "Detective Bellmen is here to see you."

        Now it was Johnny's turn to sigh. He wished Brackett had told the man he had no desire to see anyone. He hadn't spoken a word since arriving here. How much plainer could he make it that human contact wasn't something he wanted at the moment?

        "John, I know this isn't the best time," Bellmen said with an apology in his voice. "I'm sure you're tired and want to be left alone."

        You can bet a week's pay on that fact.

        "I'm not going to bother you with a lot of questions tonight." This time Johnny heard a hint of humor in the man's voice as he continued. "I'll wait until tomorrow afternoon to do that."

        Oh, good. Something to look forward to.

        Bellmen glanced at Brackett when Johnny didn't turn his head toward them, or respond in any way. The doctor shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "I told you so."

        Mark forged ahead, determined to get the information he'd come here for.

        "John, Captain Stanley and Roy have filled me in on what they know about the happenings in the warehouse. The arson investigator's preliminary findings show the fire was deliberately set. We assume this was done to draw you there. We also assume the kids who told you there was a man inside who needed your help were either duped, or were paid off. Captain Stanley said the last contact he had with you came when you radioed to tell him there was a man on the second floor you needed to bring down. Was that the same man who beat you?"

        As much as Johnny wanted to be left alone, he knew that wouldn't come until he gave Bellmen some answers. He sighed again before finally nodding his head against his pillow.

        "Was it also the same man who Roy saw fall from the second floor?"

        Once again, Johnny nodded.

        Bellmen practically danced on the ends of his toes. He was coming to the big one now. The question that would have him telling stories about this case long after he retired. The question that would have him bragging that he was inadvertently a part of stopping a serial killer even the FBI couldn't catch.

        "John, was it the same man who attacked you on the mountain and tried to
to kidnap Jennifer DeSoto?"        

        The one word that came out of Johnny's mouth was harsh and choked, though Dixie didn't think it was because of the smoke he'd eaten earlier. She could hear the raw pain in his voice that spoke of a long denied sorrow.

        "No."

        Bellmen practically screamed his, "What?"

        "No."

        "You mean no, as in it wasn't him?"

        "That's what I mean."

        The detective looked at Brackett for guidance. The doctor kept his voice low.

        "Most likely he's confused. I told you tonight wasn't the time to question him. Come back around four-thirty tomorrow afternoon. Make sure you stop in the ER and get me. I want to be here when you talk to..."

        "I'm not confused."

        Brackett looked at his patient. "Johnny?"

        John turned his head. For the first time since the trio came in the room he made eye contact with them.

        "I'm not confused," John repeated again, the after-effects of the smoke making his voice hoarse.

        "So he wasn't the man who tried to take Jennifer?" Bellmen questioned again. He fumbled in his shirt pocket for a well-worn piece of paper. He held up a copy of the police artist's sketch. "He's not the man in this picture?"

        "No. It was Kent."

        Bellmen recalled Johnny saying that same thing to his father three months earlier in the ICU. So Brackett was right. John was confused. Confused and suffering from dementia due to his head injury.

        Mark gave the paramedic the kind of smile a person usually reserves for sick five year olds.

        "I'll tell you what, John. I think it will be better if I come back tomorrow afternoon and we talk again."

        Johnny's reply was flat and lifeless.

        "Whatever you want. But that won't change my answer."

        "Then tell me who Kent is."

        The only person in the room not shocked by Johnny's answer was Kelly Brackett.

        "His name was Kent Stone. Eleven years ago he murdered my wife and daughter."

        With that Johnny turned his face back toward the wall. He just wanted his visitors to leave him alone with his memories.

        Johnny was vaguely aware of Doctor Brackett leading Mark Bellmen from the room. He imagined the two men had quite a conversation out in the hall, but once again he didn't care. He could tell Dixie remained standing in the middle of the room. He could feel her eyes on him, then heard her move a chair between the wall and his bed. She was one of the last people on the face of the earth he'd ever be nasty to, so forced back the urge to yell at her to get the hell out. Nonetheless; he refused to look at her even when he felt her lightly grasp his hand.

        "I'll tell you the same thing I told Brackett three months ago. I don't want your pity, Dix."

        "How about a friend? Can you use one of those?"

        There was a moment of hesitation before the nurse felt Johnny squeeze her hand. She saw tears trickle down his cheeks to be absorbed in the white cotton pillowcase. She wondered now if the red eyes she noticed earlier were because of smoke, or if he'd been crying before she, Kel, and Bellmen entered.

Dixie didn't ask Johnny that question, or any of the others that came to mind while she sat with him that night. She simply remained by his side, accepting his need for silence...and a friend.         

Chapter 48

        
        It was three-ten on Friday morning and Johnny was finally alone. Dixie had left an hour earlier when he'd allowed her to believe he'd fallen asleep. Fifteen minutes after Dixie headed for home Johnny dutifully answered Sharon's questions regarding his name, age, the day of the week, and where he was. They'd repeated the process thirty short minutes later at three a.m.

        Johnny was wise enough to exercise caution as he sat up and swung his feet over the bed. He waited until the room stopped spinning before removing the nasal cannula and IV. He slid to the floor, the cold tiles making his toes curl in rebellion. He used the wall for support as he made his way to the closet.

        His uniform smelled of smoke and blood dotted the shirt. He was surprised it hadn't been put in a bag and sent with Roy, but then he wasn't about to complain. He held onto the doorframe as he put first one leg into the pants and then the other. When he had them zipped and fastened he began removing his hospital gown. He reached around to undo the ties, wincing as pain bit the biceps muscle of his right arm. When he had the gown off he folded it and put it on the closet shelf before slipping into his shirt. His socks had been rolled up and placed inside his shoes. He carried the shoes to the chair Dixie had been using. Being mindful of his many bruises, he inched himself to a sitting position. Bending was even more difficult. Although X-rays had revealed no cracked or broken ribs, his chest and back were sore. Because of that Johnny made quick work of getting his shoes and socks on. When he stood again he crossed to the nightstand. Once more, Lady Luck was with him. Normally a patient's personal effects were sent home with a family member or friend. Someone in the ER had evidently forgotten to give his wallet, keys, watch, pen, and miscellaneous change to Roy. He'd seen Sharon put the items in the nightstand's drawer shortly after he'd been settled in this room. He recalled her saying something about needing to give them to Roy, but now he was glad that had yet to happen.

        Once his wallet, keys, pen, and change were pocketed, and his watch back on his wrist, Johnny made slow but steady progress for the door. He listened a long moment, then eased it open just far enough to allow him to peer down the hallway. He didn't see anyone, so risked going farther into the hall. There were two nurses at the nurse's station. One was seated with her head bent over a patient's chart, the other was on the phone with her back to Johnny.

        Johnny knew his trip out of Rampart would be easier if he could take the elevator, but he had to pass by the nurse's station to get there. He looked to his right and saw a red sign that said EXIT. Once again he was lucky. His was the last room on this end of the hallway.

        The paramedic slithered along the wall, keeping one eye on the women at the desk. When he came to the heavy stairwell door he prayed it wouldn't squeak when he opened it. It didn't. He eased it shut, then headed down the three flights of stairs. He was smart enough to hang onto the railing. The last thing he wanted was to be found by a custodian in an unconscious heap on the first floor landing. He knew Brackett would kill him if that happened. Not to mention what Roy would have to say about the matter.

        When Johnny reached the ground floor he turned to his left. If he went right a door would take him to the main lobby of the hospital. Left took him to the parking lot.

        At this time of the morning Rampart's parking lot was deserted. Nonetheless; Johnny stuck to the outer edges of it, making sure to stay away from the overhead lights. When he came to the sidewalk that would lead him from the hospital grounds he gave a sigh of relief. He looked around for a pay phone, intending to call a cab. Before he was forced to do that he saw one coming his way. He held up a hand in order to flag the driver down.

        The cab driver found it rather odd that he was picking up a Los Angeles County fireman at three-thirty in the morning who smelled like he'd just come from a gigantic wienie roast, not to mention the blood on the front of his shirt, but didn't comment on those facts. After all, in his line of business you encountered more nuts than you could remember.

        The driver did a double take when Johnny gave him the address of his ranch.

        "That's almost an hour away."

        "I know. But I've got the money to pay you." Johnny pulled sixty dollars out of his wallet.

        "Okay, as long as you've got the cash I'll about drive you anywhere you want to go."

        "I've already told you where I wanna go."

        Geez, Mr. Fireman, a bit on the crabby side, aren't we? I think you could use a few hours of shuteye.

        The driver was wise enough to keep his thoughts to himself throughout that long, silent ride. When he pulled up next to Johnny's house he was paid in full and given a nice tip.

        "Thanks for your trouble," Johnny said as he slammed the door.

        Before the driver could respond Johnny had disappeared around the side of the house. The man shrugged his shoulders as he pulled out of Johnny's driveway.

        "As my mother used to say, takes all kinds to make the world go round. And you sure as hell meet 'em on this job."
        

___________________________________        

        
        At seven-thirty on that same Friday morning Roy backed the squad into its accustomed spot at Station 51. Brad Halstead was once again filling in for Johnny. He and Roy had nothing but a steady stream of calls since midnight. Brad shut the passenger side door, then stretched while yawning.

        "Just my luck. I end up filling in for Johnny when the moon is full. I swear, Roy, it never fails. I go on the weirdest calls when there's a full moon."

        "I hear ya'. Believe me, Johnny and I say the same thing."

        The smell of sausage cooking hit Brad's nose causing his stomach to growl. "And speaking of weird runs, we'd better get some breakfast before we're toned out again."

        Roy agreed and started to follow his temporary partner to the kitchen. He stopped when he was beckoned from behind.

        "Hey, Roy," Captain Stanley hailed as he stepped from his office.

        Roy turned. "Yeah, Cap?"

        "I just talked to John."

        "Really?" Roy arched a surprised eyebrow. "I figured he'd be sleeping right about now courtesy of a sedative supplied by Doc Brackett."

        "Brackett released him."

        "He did what?"

        "Brackett released him. John's at home."

        "How'd he get there?"

        "I don't know. I didn't ask. I suppose he called a buddy to come pick him up. Or maybe one of the nurses going off duty gave him a ride home. You know Johnny, he's got more friends in more places than any of us can keep track of."

        "Uh...yeah." Roy's tone was distracted at best as his mind mulled over this news. "Yeah, Cap, he sure does."

        "Anyway, thought you might like to know John requested a two week leave of absence. Considering all he's been through I didn't hesitate to grant it. I'll be looking at shift schedules in a few minutes to see what paramedics have asked for over time. I'll let you know who you'll be working with as soon as I've got a new schedule pieced together. Oh, and I told John not to worry about his Rover. I figured you and one of the guys could take it out to his place when we're off duty. You've still got a set of keys to it, right?"

        "Yeah," Roy acknowledged as he turned for the kitchen. "I'll get Chet or Marco to take it to Johnny's with me on Sunday afternoon."

        Roy stopped in mid-stride and looked at his Captain again.

        "By the way, did Johnny say anything about getting in touch with me?"

        "No. But he sounded pretty tired. I was surprised Brackett released him at such an early hour. But knowing John he was probably causing more trouble than he was worth."

        Roy smiled at his Captain's joke. As he turned away from the man his smile faded. He recalled his pale, bloodied, bruised and silent friend from the evening before. He hardly imagined Johnny was causing anyone trouble this hospital stay, and couldn't understand what would have inspired Kelly Brackett to release him when the last Roy knew the doctor had no intention of allowing Johnny out of the hospital until Saturday at the earliest.

        Roy did an about face and headed in the opposite direction from the kitchen. Before he could get to the phone in the dorm the klaxons sounded. Once again the squad was summoned meaning Brad didn't get breakfast, and Roy didn't get to make a phone call to Rampart.

___________________________________        

        
        Roy rode in the ambulance with the seven year old girl who had been hit by a car as she crossed the street for school. Fortunately she was more scared than hurt. Nonetheless; Roy felt she should be examined by one of the Rampart doctors.

        Roy left the child in the competent care of Joe Early, accepted the thanks of her parents, then headed for the nurse's station with Brad by his side. He reached down and turned the volume up on his Handie Talkie so he'd hear the call if they were toned out again.

        "I need to talk to Doctor Brackett for a minute," Roy said to Brad as he scanned the busy ER in search of the dark headed physician.

        "Take your time. I'll be in the nurse's lounge having a cup of coffee. If I'm lucky I might even find a couple of doughnuts looking for a home."

        Roy chuckled. "Brad, you don't talk nearly as much as Johnny, but you sure can pack away the food like he does."

        "That's 'cause us skinny guys gotta work hard at keeping our blood sugar up."

        As Brad disappeared into the nurse's lounge Roy felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder.

        "Roy, can I talk to you in my office for a minute?"

        Roy turned to face Kelly Bracket.

        "Sure. I was just coming to look for you as it was. Why'd you release Johnny?"

        Brackett's expression was both grim and displeased as he and Roy walked together down the hallway.

        "I didn't release Johnny. It seems he released himself."

        "What?"

        "He skipped out on us sometime between three and three-thirty this morning."

        Brackett stood back and allowed Roy to enter his office. He entered behind the paramedic and closed the door. Both men remained standing in the middle of the room.

        "Skipped out, huh?"

        "Yes. He pulled his IV, got dressed, and somehow got past the nurses. I've had the hospital searched but no one's seen him. I called Dixie...it's her day off, I called her at home but she hasn't seen him either. If he's at his ranch he's not answering the phone."

        Roy briefly wondered why Brackett thought Dixie would have insight into Johnny's whereabouts, but he didn't bother to ask.

        "I was just getting ready to call the station when I spotted you here. Has Johnny contacted you?"

        "No. But he called Cap shortly before seven-thirty and requested a two week leave of absence."

        "So that means he was probably at the ranch."

        "I suppose." Roy moved to Brackett's desk. "Mind if I use your phone?"

        "No," the doctor replied, immediately guessing who it was Roy was going to call. "Go right ahead."

        Roy dialed the number from memory. He let it ring twenty times before finally hanging up. He saw the phone books on a bookshelf behind Brackett's desk. He walked over and pulled one down.

        "Johnny's got a neighbor by the name of Bob Emery who takes care of his animals when he's on-duty or goes away on vacation. I'll call Bob and see if Johnny's been in touch with him."

        "If he hasn't been, ask this Mr. Emery to drive over to Johnny's place and check on him."

        "I will."

        As Roy dialed the phone again Brackett muttered, "I've never made a house call before, but if we find out Johnny's at home this may be a first."

        Roy didn't envy his partner when the irate doctor got a hold of him.

        What the hell made you do something this stupid, Junior? Roy wondered as he listened to the phone ring on the other end. You know pulling a stunt like this is only going to get you in hot water with both Brackett and Cap. You'll be lucky if your leave of absence doesn't turn into a suspension without pay. And you'll be lucky if Bob doesn't find you passed out in your house. If we end up coming back here in an ambulance Brackett and I will both take a chunk out of your skinny hide.

        After four rings Roy heard Bob's familiar voice. Roy identified himself, then without going into any detail asked, "Have you talked to Johnny this morning by chance?"

        "Sure have. He called to say he was going out of town and asked if I'd take care of the animals and keep an eye on his place for a couple of weeks."

        "Did he say where he was going?"

        "No, Roy, he didn't. But then, I didn't ask."

        "How long ago did you get this phone call?"

        "Oh...I'd say about seven-thirty. I was just stepping out the door to do my own chores."

        "I see. And did he say when he was leaving?"

        "Said he was packed and had his stuff loaded in the pickup so I'm guessing he hit the road as soon as we hung up."

        Aside from his beloved Land Rover, Johnny now had a red Ford pickup truck that he'd purchased two years earlier.

        "Yeah," the paramedic agreed. "Sounds that way."

        "Roy? Is there something wrong?"

        "Uh...no. No, not that I'm aware of. I'm just needed to get in touch with Johnny before he left. Thanks, Bob."

        "No problem."

        Before Roy even hung up the phone Brackett deduced, "Johnny's gone."

        "Appears that way. According to Bob he said he was going out of town for a couple of weeks."

        "But he didn't tell Bob where he was going?"

        "No."

        "He just can't make this easy on us, can he?"

        "Guess not." Roy put the phone book back on the shelf then turned to face the doctor. "How serious could this turn out to be?"

        "Very serious. He has a concussion, and as of three o'clock this morning had really no sleep to speak of. You know as well as I do he could experience blackouts, dizziness, disorientation, memory loss, just to name a few complications. The last thing he should be doing is driving."

        "I know. And I'm sure Johnny does, too." Despite his anger at his friend's foolish actions, Roy came to Johnny's defense. "But that whole incident in the warehouse yesterday left him badly shaken. No to mention what he's been going through since those letters started arriving. I know he shouldn't have left here like he did, but he's pretty upset right now. He...well he might not be thinking clearly."

        "Roy, I know that," Kelly agreed. "And believe me, I'm not always the hard ass
by-the-rule-book doctor Johnny perceives me to be. I don't have any intention of reporting John's little AWOL stunt to Captain Stanley if it can be avoided. I know he's been through hell since April, and now this...this curve ball he was thrown by Kent Stone. Something like that's bound to knock anyone off their feet for a while. Cause them to lose their emotional balance."

        Now Roy was confused. "Kent Stone?"

        "Hasn't Mark Bellmen talked to you?"

        "No. Who's Kent Stone? Is that the name of the guy who started all this? Who tried to kidnap Jennifer? Have they identified his body already?"

        Brackett took a deep breath before answering. He assumed that by now Roy knew the identity of the person who had been stalking Johnny, and then attempted to kill him in the warehouse the previous day. He thought a long moment, weighing whether or not he should reveal to Johnny's best friend what Chad Gage had told him three months earlier.

        When Kelly Brackett reached a decision he said, "Roy, you'd better sit down. I've got something to tell you that's going to come as both a surprise and a shock."
        

Chapter 49

        
        Despite Brad Halstead's groans each time the klaxons sounded, Roy was glad they were busy over the course of the next forty-two hours. He had less time to worry about Johnny that way, and at least the calls kept him from laying awake in his bunk long after everyone else was asleep.

        Roy didn't tell his co-workers about his conversation with Brackett. He allowed Captain Stanley to go on believing Johnny had been released from the hospital, as opposed to sneaking out in the wee hours of the morning. For Johnny's sake, and his own, Roy prayed Hank would never have to know differently. At least Roy had Brackett's support on this one. The doctor said the incident would never be mentioned provided Johnny wasn't brought back to Rampart in an ambulance. Which was exactly what Kelly Brackett, Dixie McCall, and Roy DeSoto were worried about as Saturday turned to Sunday and Roy still hadn't heard from his missing friend.

        The roads were almost deserted as Roy drove home after getting off duty at eight on Sunday morning. He didn't have to be back at the station until Friday. The blissful feeling that thought normally produced was marred by the fact Roy's mind kept wandering to Johnny.

        Where are you, partner? Camping in some isolated spot where no one can find you? Or did you just get in your truck and start driving with no real idea as to where you're going? Or...or are you dead on the side of the road somewhere? Jesus, Johnny, why didn't you talk to me? You can't keep something like this inside all these years and go about your merry way like a guy who doesn't have a care in the world. I always knew there was a lot more to you than you reveal to most people. Hell, within the first couple days of us working together I saw past your good-time Charlie exterior to discover what a dedicated, hard working, intelligent guy you are. And your big heart...well I always wondered why a guy who loves life as much as you do...who loves my kids as much as you do, wasn't married with five kids of his own. Now I know why. Now I know why you never get serious with any of the women you date, and why when they start to get serious with you, you do something that causes them to dump you. No wonder it never bothers you. You don't want them getting too close for a reason. Dammit, Johnny, why didn't you tell me? Why?

        Roy DeSoto was the first person to respect another's right to privacy. Overall, Roy knew he wasn't angry at Johnny for keeping a very tragic part of his past quiet, Johnny was certainly entitled to that privilege. But what bothered Roy was that because of all Johnny had done to protect Jennifer his past had come back to haunt him in ways no one could have imagined.

        Don't run, Junior. Don't run. I don't care who you turn to for help. It doesn't have to be me. Just...just find someone you can talk to. Someone you can trust. God, please let him find a friend who can help him through this. Don't let him commit...please don't let him do anything foolish.

        For that's what Roy feared the most. That Johnny had been pushed to the point where he was no longer thinking rationally. Where he might decide there was only one way to end the pain he was going through. The practical part of Roy didn't think Johnny would ever do something like that. If ever there was a person who possessed inner strength it was John Gage. Yet the husband and father in Roy knew how devastated he'd be if he lost Joanne and the children. What if the same thing had happened to him and he'd allowed eleven years to pass without really ever going through the grieving process? Without allowing himself to go through the necessary cycle of bereavement, anger, despair, sorrow, and ultimately acceptance? How would he react when the piper finally came to call? Maybe no differently than Johnny had.

        Roy climbed out of his car and headed for the front door. Today, more than any other, he noticed how lonely the house felt without the welcoming presence of Joanne and the kids. It was so quiet he could hear the tick of the clock that hung on the kitchen wall. He placed the Sunday paper and his car keys on the kitchen counter. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, wondering what he should do first. Call Joanne in San Diego. Take a hot shower. Take a nap. Eat breakfast. Or, just like he'd been doing every couple of hours since his talk with Kelly Brackett on Friday morning, call Johnny's house while holding onto the vague hope he'd answer the phone.

        Roy was just about to do the latter when his own phone rang. He had to resist the urge to question, "Johnny?" when he answered. Instead, he said simply, "Hello?"

        "Roy?"

        "Yes?" Roy replied to the voice that both was and wasn't Johnny's.

        "Roy, it's Chad Gage."

        "Chad," Roy nodded as though the man could see him through the phone line. "Hi."

        "Hi. Roy, John's here."

        "Here?"

        "At home. In Montana. He arrived around two this morning. He's sleeping now. He looks like hell."

        "I imagine so. Is he okay?"

        "Seems to be. Reah checked him over. Once she determined he didn't need to be taken to the hospital she did a better job of bawling him out than I ever have, then insisted he eat breakfast and go to sleep. I suspect she slipped something in his milk that helped him do just that, but I didn't ask."

        "Did he tell you what's been going on since June? About the letters? About the items left at his home? What happened in the warehouse on Thursday?"

        "In bits and pieces, yes. I'm sure we're missing a lot of the details yet, but I'm hoping once he's awake he'll feel like talking. For now we just let him tell us what he could, and didn't push him to tell us what he couldn't."

        "We've been worried about him. He snuck out of Rampart on Friday morning. I'm glad he showed up at your place."

        "So am I. He...he's so lost right now, Roy. When I opened the door to find him standing there...well, he acted like he wasn't even sure how he got here. He just...he just kind of stared at me with a vacant look to his eyes and asked, 'Will it ever be over, Daddy? Will the pain ever be gone?' Then he collapsed into my arms."

        Roy's heart ached at the thought of his closest friend hurting so much.

        "Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"

        "Roy, you've done so much for John already. I can't think of another thing I could ask of you. Your friendship is the best thing that's happened to him since Kim and Jessie died. When he's with you, or your family, or the guys he works with, he's like his old self again. Like the young man I used to know before...well before Kim and Jessie were taken from us."

        The two men fell into a short silence. By the things Chad said it was obvious he assumed Roy knew of the tragedy. If Doctor Brackett hadn't told Roy about it on Thursday morning he'd have no idea what Chad was talking about.

        It was Roy who first spoke again.

        "Chad, have Johnny call me if he feels up to it. Tell him no pressure. I don't care what we talk about. Work, the weather, the Dodgers...makes no difference to me. Just...just tell him I'm here for him."

        "I will, Roy. And thank you."

        Roy thanked Chad for calling to inform him of Johnny's whereabouts, then the two men hung up. Long after the receiver had been placed back in its cradle the paramedic sat at the breakfast bar mulling over the phone call. Chad's words echoed in his mind.

        Roy, you've done so much for John already. I can't think of another thing I could ask of you.

        The blond man pushed himself from the stool. He headed up the stairs to the bathroom. His mind never left Johnny as he showered, shaved, ate breakfast, called Kelly Brackett to let him know where Johnny was and that Reah had given him a relatively clean bill of health, then attempted to sleep. It was three hours later when he sat up on the bed.

        I can think of another thing you can ask of me, Chad.

        Roy hurried to the closet. He pulled out his suitcase and some clothes. Within two hours time he had the suitcase in the car, he had called Joanne, and he had made arrangements for a neighbor to bring in the mail and newspaper until he returned on Thursday evening.

        Roy backed the car out of the driveway. As he drove toward the airport he wondered how long it would be before he could catch a flight bound for Montana.
        

Chapter 50

        Getting a flight to Montana wasn't nearly as arduous a process as getting to the small town of White Rock in the northwestern part of the state where Johnny grew up. Roy's plane landed in Helena at nine o'clock on Sunday night. He got an inexpensive room at the Best Western next to the airport. After breakfast on Monday morning he rented a car, purchased a map, asked for some directions, and caught Highway 141 headed west. Roy traveled in that direction for an hour, then caught Highway 83 headed north. Johnny had always told Roy Montana was like two different states combined into one. According to John, the eastern half of the state was flat and filled with open farm land. After a visit to that area you'd know why Montana was called Big Sky Country, Johnny once said. On the other hand, the western half of the state was filled with trees, a multitude of national forests, and was intersected by the Rocky Mountains.

        A drive that would have seemed long in eastern Montana where the flat land made the sights grow dull and repetitious passed quickly in this part of the state. Roy had never seen such beauty. The clear blue summer sky capped by the Rocky Mountains on his right and the tall thick pine trees on his left, caused the Southern California born Roy to wonder how Johnny could leave such a pristine place for the smog and congested living of Los Angeles.

        I know where I'm taking Joanne and the kids on vacation next summer. They'll love it here.

        Roy arrived in White Rock shortly before two o'clock that afternoon. The town was nestled between the foothills of the Rockies and the Eagle Falls National Forest Preserve. The buildings along Main Street spoke of an era gone by. Time had seemed to stop for White Rock at some point around 1950. Roy drove past the only bank in town, then a two story brick building that read White Rock Sheriff's Office on one door and White Rock Volunteer Fire Department over two big garage doors that no doubt held fire engines behind them. Next came the old-fashioned dime store with the sign above that read Kelsey's 5 And 10, the post office that still had a hitching post out front for horses, a theater, a Rexall Drug Store, Mabel And Ted's Hardware, the Eagle County Ranchers Grain And Supply, the bowling alley, Fitzgerald's Bar and Pool Hall, and a dozen other miscellaneous businesses before coming to the White Rock Cafe.

        At this time of the afternoon the cafe was empty. Roy didn't intend to linger long, but did enjoy the homemade meal of roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and apple pie. The older woman who was both waitress and cook wiped off counter tops and tables while making small talk with him. As Roy stood at the cash register to pay his bill he asked the woman for directions to the Gage ranch.

        "So you're headed out to Chad's, huh?" She asked as she took Roy's money. "You must be here to buy some of his stock. It's common knowledge he's got the best cattle in the entire state."

        "Actually, I'm not here to buy anything. I'm a friend of Mr. Gage's son."

        "John?" The woman's blue eyes grew a little brighter and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. "You know John?"

        "Sure do. He's my partner back in L.A. We're..."

        "Paramedics. Yes, I know. Chad comes in here for lunch at least twice a week. He's always updating me on the latest news about my Jay Jay."

        "Your Jay Jay?"

        "That's what John used to call himself when he was first learning to talk. Every time Chad brought him in here I'd ask, 'Hey, good looking, what's your name?' He'd give me that charming little grin of his, bat those long black eye lashes, and say, 'Jay Jay.' I guess that was as close to John as he could get. Of course he wasn't much over fifteen months at the time. Just a little guy barely walking on his own yet.

        "He...John, wasn't more than a week old the first time Chad brought him in here to show him off. My husband and I have owned this cafe forty years. Though it's just me now. Cliff passed away three years ago."

        "I'm sorry to hear that."

        "Thank you. Anyway, Chad's wife Laurel and I were best friends as far back as I can remember. I stood as her attendant the day she and Chad got married." The woman's voice dropped as though someone might overhear her which Roy found amusing considering he was the only person in the place. "It caused quite a scandal, you know."

        "No, I didn't know. What caused a scandal?"

        "Chad and Laurel's marriage. Her father was the town doctor. A very well-respected, prominent man. He was one of the few people in White Rock back then who would have anything to do with the Indians. He went out to the reservation once a week to offer them free medical care. They weren't allowed to use any of the area hospitals in those days. Come to think of it they really weren't allowed to use much of anything in the 'white man's world' back then. Anyway, Doctor Hamilton, John Hamilton was his name, which is how your friend John came by his first name, Doctor Hamilton used to take Laurel to the reservation with him. A lot of people didn't think that was right. They said a white girl had no business being amongst those people. My own father included and he was John Hamilton's closest friend. Dad always said no good would come of Doc Hamilton taking Laurel out there. Well, I can't say no good came of it. She fell in love with Chad, they had four beautiful children..."

        "Excuse me? Four? I thought there was just Reah and Johnny."

        "No. There were identical twin girls born in-between Reah and John. Layne and Lorelei. Oh, they were just as beautiful and precious as they could be. Like all Laurel and Chad's children. They were only nine months old when they died. A bad strain of flu was going around that winter. It was 1943. There wasn't much in the way of antibiotics back then. If children got as sick as those two little girls were they were generally put in the hospital. Only none of the hospitals would take them because they were breeds."

        "Pardon me?"

        "Half breeds. You know, their father was Indian and their mother was white."

        "But what about their grandfather? Wasn't he on staff at a hospital near here?"

        "Sure was. But even he couldn't get the hospital administrator to bend the rules. It was so sad. Despite the care Doc Hamilton gave them, those two little ones didn't have a chance. A lot of children on the reservation died that winter. I think that's when Chad decided come hell or high water he was going to give his family a better life. He was consumed by a deep depression until John was born. That event seemed to bring him out of it and give him the drive he needed to make good on his promise to himself. Within a year of John's birth Chad was buying up all the land he could...which was pretty much unheard of considering he was an Indian. Then he and Laurel started building their home while at the same time nurturing a thriving business. They had a lot of happy years while Reah and John were growing up. They beat the odds I guess you'd say."

        "How so?"

        "What few marriages took place between a white woman and an Indian man back then were rarely successful. Most of those men...now I don't mean to sound prejudice 'cause I'm not, I love Chad like a brother and love his children as if they were my own, but most of those men aren't too ambitious and tend to have a weakness for the bottle if you know what I mean. Of course, a lot of it has to do with the life they're forced to live on the reservation. The best thing Chad ever did for himself and his children was move onto his own place. There's no doubt about it. Laurel loved him with all her heart and soul. And I know he loved her with that same type of devotion, though he's quieter when it comes to things like that. Laurel was the outgoing one of the two. John gets so much of his personality from her, while Reah's more like Chad. Laurel was always laughing, always had a funny story to tell about one of the children or something that had happened on the ranch. And she was always getting herself into the goofiest situations. Because of that I used to call her Lucy, you know, like Lucy Ricardo from the old I Love Lucy show. Laurel was a character let me tell you. She was also a wonderful wife and mother. And a wonderful friend. At first I used to wonder how she could be attracted to a man from such a different background than her own, but as time went on I didn't think of Chad as 'different' any longer. I just thought of him as Chad. As the man who made my best friend so happy, and who was a loving father to the children they had together. Then...well...life is life. You have to take the good with the bad, and Lord knows that family got more than its share of bad. But none of us has a choice in matters such as those."

        "No, I don't suppose we do."

        The woman finally stopped talking long enough to take Roy's money. She looked at him over the top of her cat-eye glasses as she punched the total into the register.

        "So, I'm guessing you're here to see John?"

        "You guessed right."

        "He's going through a rough time right now Reah tells me."

        "Yes, he is."

        "I haven't seen him yet, but Reah mentioned he's staying at Chad's. This is the first time he's been back since he left ten years ago, you know."

        "So I hear."

        "I'm not real clear on what happened to cause Kent's death the other day, but whatever came his way he deserved it. A good Christian woman like me shouldn't say that, and I hope the Lord forgives me for it, but what Kent did to my Jay Jay, to his family...it was horrible beyond what any words can describe."

        Roy simply nodded his head because the details Kelly Brackett had given him were sketchy at best.

        "I suppose I'd better quit talking your ear off and give you directions to Chad's place."

        The woman took a pen out of the pocket of her pale pink uniform smock and plucked a napkin from its holder. She drew a small map, then printed directions below it.

        "This is how you get to Chad's. It's easy to find. Once you're on High Creek Road you go straight for three miles. You'll see his home setting about three quarters of a mile off the road. There's a long gravel drive that leads up to it. It's a big one story log house with a chimney made from field stones. There's also a sign at the end of the drive that says Gage Ranch And Trucking. He trucks livestock for other ranchers, you know."

        "No, I didn't know."

        "Yep, he does. Anyway, you can't miss it."

        She turned the napkin over and started printing a new set of directions on the other side.

        "What are those for?" Roy asked as he watched her Bic pen move back and forth.

        "This is another set of directions."

        "To where?"

        "The graveyard."

        "The graveyard?"

        "I haven't seen John in ten and half years, but I'm still willing to bet I know him as well as I'd know a son of my own. My instincts tell me this is where you'll find him. If I'm wrong head to Chad's. If John's not at the graveyard then he's probably out riding a horse so darn fast he'll break his fool neck."

        Roy smiled. "Sounds like your instincts are still in tune with Johnny's actions."

        "Never doubted it for a moment. As I said, I've known him since he was born. He and Reah...well, they were the children Cliff and I were never able to have."

        Roy accepted the napkin the woman handed him. "Thanks."

        "You're welcome."

        As the paramedic turned to head for the door the woman added, "By the way, my name's Marietta."

        "Nice to meet you, Marietta. My name's Roy."

        "Nice to meet you, Roy. Do me a favor?"

        "Sure."

        "Bring Jay Jay in here for a piece of pie before he heads back to Los Angeles. Tell that boy if he even thinks of leaving without seeing me I'll swat his behind like I did the time he filled my antique claw-footed bathtub with ten boxes of cherry Jello. The antique claw-footed bath tub I had refinished and shipped here from New York City."

        "Cherry Jello?"

        "Yep. And believe me that stuff stains. The tub never was what you'd call white after that."

        "No, I imagine not. What made him do such a thing?"

        "He was pretending he was a fireman."

        "A fireman, huh?" Roy grinned.

        "Yeah. He was pretending he was putting out a chemical fire. He thought Jello powder would work good since he knew you aren't supposed to put water on chemicals. He was only five years old so don't ask me how the little imp came by that knowledge, but John was like that. Always full of surprises. At the time I wasn't too impressed with his ingenuity though. I chased him 'round and 'round that bath tub smacking his bottom with a fly swatter every time I got close to him."

        Roy couldn't help but laugh. Marietta laughed with him.

        "The one thing about my Jay Jay, you could never leave him alone for too long. He tended to get into trouble that way."

        Roy smiled as he headed for the door.

        "Believe me, Marietta, not much has changed over the years."

        Marietta laughed, then the paramedic heard the laughter die as she voiced a heart felt plea.

        "Roy...just help him, okay?"

        Roy looked at the woman a moment, sure he saw tears shining in her eyes. He gave a solemn nod.

        "I'll do my best."

        As he climbed in his rental car Roy silently promised again to both himself and the woman, I'll do my best.

Chapter 51

        John Gage stood in front of his mother's grave. He hadn't been here since the day they buried her in October of 1967. He'd left White Rock for Los Angeles in January of '68 with no plans of ever coming back.

        After he'd paid his respects to his mother Johnny glanced to the right. His eyes fell on the graves of the siblings he'd never known, Layne Rose and Lorelei Ruth. Not for the first time he wondered how his life might have been different had he grown up with three big sisters watching out for him as opposed to just one.

        The paramedic's attention focused next upon the graves of his maternal grandparents. His grandmother, Rose Hamilton, had passed away in 1965. He had nothing but fond memories of the woman and the times he spent with her as a child. She made the best chocolate chip cookies, and always had a smile and a kiss for him whenever he popped into her house on his way home from school. He knew it couldn't have been easy for her having grandchildren who were half American Indian. She was a pillar of the community and the local Baptist church. Marriages between Indians and whites were no more accepted in Montana during Johnny's growing up years than marriages between blacks and whites were accepted in Alabama during that time period. But if Rose was snubbed by some who had been her friends before her daughter married Chad Gage, she never spoke of it. She wrapped Johnny and Reah in her arms each time she saw them as though they were the most precious gifts Laurel could have given her.

        Grandpa Hamilton died a year after his wife. Johnny had always admired the man he was named for, and supposed some of his desire to check into the paramedic program when Dixie had first spoken to him about it was a direct result of his grandfather's influence. It wasn't unusual for Johnny to spend his Saturday's traveling with his grandfather as the man made house calls, just like Johnny's mother had done before him.

        At one time Johnny had thought his maternal grandparents died too soon. But after the events that followed their deaths he realized their passings were a blessing. He was glad they didn't live to see the murders of his wife and daughter, followed by the unexpected death of their daughter, their only child, just six months later.

        Johnny's paternal grandmother was deceased as well, but he barely remembered her. She'd died of cancer when he was only four. He couldn't pay his respects to her grave because she wasn't buried here. Her resting place was in the cemetery on the reservation.

        The cool breeze from the aging pines, maples and oaks ruffled Johnny's hair. He took a deep breath of the clean mountain air. A day like this in L.A. would be stifling hot with smog hanging overhead like a blanket threatening to suffocate anyone who walked outside. He would have never raised Jessie there. And if he ever married again and had children, something he rarely gave serious consideration to, he knew he'd move away from Southern California in a heartbeat even though it would mean leaving behind many close friends.

        The sixteen hours of uninterrupted sleep Johnny had gotten after first arriving at his father's house had done him good. He was still pale, and a bit unsteady on his feet, but physically speaking he was feeling much better. Johnny had eaten lunch with his dad today, then gone into his old bedroom to rest as Reah instructed was to be the case for the next several days. But Johnny only rested until he heard his father's pickup truck leave. He knew his dad had errands to run in Columbia Falls and would likely be gone until it was time to start chores late that afternoon. That meant Johnny had several hours when no one was around to keep track of him.

        Johnny didn't really know what made him stop at the cemetery. His only real intention when leaving the ranch in his Ford was to drive around the town he'd grown up in and see what had changed in the ten and a half years he'd been away. He drove past the high school he graduated from, and the small building that had been his grandfather's office that now belonged to another doctor. Next came the fire department where he'd started working as a volunteer shortly after his eighteenth birthday, and finally the house he and Kim had rented when they started their life together as husband and wife.

        When John came to the cemetery the truck seemed to have a mind of its own. He didn't really remember parking it on the small gravel lot outside the iron gates. Nor did he recall walking through those gates and following the gravel path that would take him to the graves of his mother, sisters, and grandparents. All he knew was that suddenly he was standing there remembering a childhood that was both difficult and pleasant. Difficult because he and Reah were products of a mixed marriage and often suffered the prejudice that came with such a union. But pleasant because he'd been fortunate enough to grow up with love and acceptance from both sides of his extended family. Johnny was grateful to the mother and grandparents who were now deceased who'd had so much influence on making him the man he was today.

        Johnny almost left the graveyard that afternoon without walking to the other side. He'd never visited those graves. He hadn't even visited them the day he buried his mother. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his Wranglers and took a deep breath. He didn't know if he had the strength to travel this particular path.

        The steps Johnny took were small and tentative. His mind kept telling him to head for his truck, but his body kept moving him in the opposite direction. When he finally reached his destination he wasn't surprised to find the big urn of fresh flowers there, nor the bench made of polished granite. That was something Kim's father would do.

        Johnny sank to the bench knowing fully well how infuriated his former father-in-law would be to see him here. The man had hated him because he was a half breed. He made it quite clear he didn't want his daughter dating Johnny's kind, let alone marrying him. But in the end young love won out over Daddy's wishes, like young love often does. Johnny supposed now, that wasn't such a good thing. Kim might still be alive if they hadn't run off and gotten married, but then again, maybe she wouldn't be. Johnny had quit weighing that possibility in his mind years ago. It did no good because there was never an easy answer.

        Johnny sensed a presence behind him, but didn't turn around. If it was his father he supposed he'd feel Chad's hand on his shoulder. If it was his former father-in-law he supposed he'd feel a punch to the jaw. Either way he didn't really care. He wanted to be alone, and wished whoever it was would leave.

        John did a good job of hiding his surprise when he heard a quiet voice say, "Hi, partner."

        Roy walked around the bench. "Mind if I sit down?"

        "I suppose since you've come all this way it would be rude of me to say no."

        "It would be. But I'll go if you want me to."

        "Go where?"

        "To your dad's place."

        "Did he ask you to come?"

        "No. But he called me on Sunday morning to tell me you were here. We were worried about you."

        "Who's we?"

        "Me, Brackett, and Dixie."

        "Does anyone else know?"

        "That you went AWOL you mean?"

        "Yeah. Like Cap?"

        "No. And Brackett isn't going to tell him either."

        Johnny was surprised. "He's not?"

        "No. He told me he wouldn't, provided you didn't end up back at Rampart in an ambulance. Though I imagine Doc Brackett will have a number of things to say to you about sneaking out of his hospital."

        "I suppose he will. Not to mention what Dix is gonna say."

        Roy chuckled. "You're more afraid of her than of Brackett, aren't you?"

        "You bet. Any man with half a brain is."

        As quick as the light-hearted conversation started it ended. Johnny looked straight ahead, facing the graves. The bigger stone was made of gray granite like the bench he was sitting on and read Kimberly Dawn Caufield. Born: March 21st, 1946 Died: April 28th, 1967. Our Beloved Daughter. The second stone was smaller than the first but its twin in every way other than the inscription. Jessie Laurel Caufield. Born: February 10th, 1966 Died: April 28th, 1967. Our Little Angel.

        Roy could barely hear Johnny when he spoke. His voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper.

        "I never knew how much he hated me until today."

        "Who?"

        "Kim's father. I never...I've never visited their graves. Kim was my wife. Jessie my daughter. Caufield was Kim's maiden name. Legally she was Kimberly Dawn Gage when she died. My baby was Jessie Gage, not Jessie Caufield. But he made sure no one would remember his daughter had married a half breed. I don't know why it surprises me. Or why it hurts. Especially after all these years. God knows it's a typical Benjamin Caufield move."

        "He was your father-in-law?"

        "Yeah. Though he'd probably rather choke to death than admit it."

        "Is he still living?"

        "I assume so. If not I'm sure he'd be buried right here next to Kim." Johnny swept out a hand. "After all, this is the Caufield plot."

        For the first time Roy noticed the dozen or more tombstones that bore the last name of Caufield.

        "He was...and most likely still is, the richest guy for miles. He owned a mining company. Kim was his youngest daughter. She had two older sisters, Kara and Kristen. They were all beautiful girls. Blond, blue eyed, good students, cheerleaders. Yet nice, too. The kind of girls no one could dislike despite the privileges they'd grown up with. They sure didn't get their personalities from their old man. He was a real son of a bitch. Their mom...she was a heck of a lady, but pretty well controlled by Ben."

        Roy didn't interrupt Johnny even when there were long pauses in his monologue. He could tell by the distant look in John's eyes he was reliving a part of his past. A part he hadn't visited in many years. A part he needed to lay to rest.

        "Reah and I went to grade school on the reservation even though we'd moved off of it when I was six. The public grade school in White Rock wasn't integrated then. But by the time Reah was ready to start her freshmen year in high school that had changed. My father and some of the other men on the Indian Council forced the issue. It was a long battle, but they finally won. The high school on the rez was for shit. Most kids never made it through more than one or two years. Dad wanted something more for his kids, even if it meant sending us away to boarding school in Helena. Which he would have done had he not gotten the public school to open its doors to us.

        "Sometimes I wondered if he was doing us a favor or not. God knows it was hell a lot of days. We took quite a bit of razing from some of the white kids. And from some of the teachers, too. There were probably fifteen of us attending by the time I started. I pretty much stuck with the Indian kids during my freshmen year, but by the time I was a sophomore I'd made friends with lots of white kids, too. I suppose a number of parents weren't too happy about that, but because of my Grandpa Hamilton...he was the town doctor, they kept their mouths shut. Despite all that, I liked high school. I wrote for the newspaper. Was editor my senior year. Joined the track team and played on the basketball and baseball teams."

        Some of these facts Roy already knew based on things Johnny had told him in the past, but he acted as though he was hearing them for the first time.

        "A real athlete, huh?"

        "Oh...I don't know," came Johnny's modest reply. "I guess I was okay. Track was my best sport, followed by baseball. I lettered in both of them. I got good grades, too, so overall my father's efforts weren't wasted. I felt I had to do my best for him...because of all he'd done to get doors opened for me and Reah. And to tell you the truth I didn't regret it. Not even when some bully would trip me in the hallway and call me a dumb redskin.

        "I first took notice of Kim at the beginning of our sophomore year. We had several classes together. She was already dating a guy by the name of Kent Stone. He was a junior. His father and her father were good friends. His father owned a big spread...ranch, north of town. He was no slouch in the money department either. I guess Ben and Mr. Stone thought of it as a match made in heaven. A way to combine their two empires financially speaking. I wasn't really serious when I started flirting with Kim. You know, teasing her and hanging around her locker telling bad jokes like fifteen year old boys do when they're interested in a girl."

        "Like you still do today you mean?" Roy joked.

        That got a smile out of Johnny.

        "Yeah, something like that. Anyway, I knew I liked Kim...I knew she made me feel like no other girl had made me feel before. I knew what I felt for her was more than a crush, but I also knew she was white and I was a half breed. No way would she ever consider going out with me. Or so I thought until she asked me."

        "She asked you?"

        "Yep. One thing about Kim, when she wanted something she was determined to get it. She came up to me one day after history class and said, "John Gage, are you going to ask me to the movies on Saturday night or not? Because if you're not, then I'm going to ask you.

        "When I finally found my voice I told her I thought she was dating Kent. He was the quarterback on the football team. You know, big man around town. Popular, smart, good looking, drove a Corvette convertible...the All American Boy. The kind of a guy a girl like Kim should have been falling over. I couldn't understand what she saw in me. A skinny half-breed kid whose bangs were always hanging in his eyes and who didn't have the money to show her a good time the way Kent could. I thought she was just playing around with me. You know, maybe asking me out on a dare from her friends. But at the same time I didn't think she'd do that. She was...there was a sincerity about her, a sweetness about her, that you didn't often see in fifteen year old girls. I figured what the heck, I'd risk it. If she was making a fool of me so be it. If nothing else I'd be able to brag to my buddies about the date I had with the most popular girl in school. The richest girl in town."

        Johnny used a hand to push his hair away from his face. Roy noticed he was careful not to come in contact with his stitches. He could tell the area surrounding them was bruised, still a bit swollen, and most likely tender.

        "So, we went to a movie that Saturday night. And roller skating on Sunday. The next Saturday we went bowling. The next Sunday on a picnic. Because I wasn't driving yet we had to meet at all those places. I didn't think too much of it when one of her older sisters kept dropping her off. It wasn't until Kent came up to me one day in school and slammed me into a locker while saying, "If I don't kill you first, Gage, Kim's old man will," that I knew we were headed for trouble. I asked Kim what Kent meant about her father. She started crying when she said her dad was really prejudiced. She didn't have to say anymore for me to know she'd never told him we were seeing each other, and that he'd be furious when he found out. Which was only a matter of hours because Kent stopped at Ben's office after school and ratted on us. Kim was forbidden to see me then. Ben tried to force her back into dating Kent. She'd have no part of it.

        "My parents liked Kim...they liked her a lot, but they thought I should respect her father's wishes. Dad kept telling me I'd only make things harder on both Kim and myself if we snuck around behind Ben's back. Of course I argued with him. Reminded him that he and Mom were happily married. In turn he kept reminding me that he'd had the support of Mom's parents when he started seeing her. He told me marriage was difficult enough when everyone gets along, not to mention what it was like when the bride and groom's family are feuding. But hell, I was a teenager. I knew more than my dad. Or so I thought. Kim and I continued to see one another on the sly. It got easier when I started driving the summer I turned sixteen. I bought myself an old pickup truck from the money I made working for my dad. Kim had a girlfriend who would cover for her. You know, say they were together at the movies or whatever when Kim was really with me. I led my parents to believe I was out with my buddies. I think Gray Wolf knew differently, though I don't know how. My grandfather's got this kind of eerie sixth sense sometimes. More than once during that time he told me that if I had to be dishonest about what I was doing then maybe I wasn't doing the right thing. But he never said a word to my folks. That's just the kind of guy he is."

        "I can see why you admire him so much. Chris and Jennifer were ready to adopt him."

        Johnny smiled. "Yeah, he's great. Probably about the coolest grandfather a kid could have."

        John sobered again as he stared at the tombstones.

        "Kim and I dated all through high school. I'm not sure if Kent even realized that. He kept trying to win Kim back until he went off to college, but she would barely acknowledge him if she passed him on the street. She said he scared her."

        "Scared her how?"

        "She wouldn't tell me at the time. It wasn't until after we were married that I found out he used to push her around and rough her up when she wouldn't do things his way. For God sake she was fifteen years old. What kind of a guy pushes around a fifteen year old girl?"

        "A sick kind."

        "Yeah, he was sick all right. Far more sick than either Kim or I knew."

        Johnny stopped a moment. He rubbed his hands on the thighs of his faded jeans before finding the strength to continue.

        "By the time we were seniors we knew Kim's dad would never allow us to get married so we did what any mature teenagers do. We eloped the day after we graduated from high school."

        "But you would have only been seventeen," Roy said, taking an educated guess that Johnny graduated from high school in either late May or early June of 1964.

        "You're right. But in Utah you can be legally married at fourteen. Or at least you could at that time. So me, Kim, my buddy Toby, and her best friend Donna, piled in my pickup and headed out of state. We drove all night and made it to Salt Lake City the next afternoon. We were married at city hall. We went to dinner and then got a cheap motel room. I gave Toby the keys to my truck and told him to pick us up for breakfast at eight the next morning." Johnny smiled at the memory of his wedding night. "I don't know what Toby and Donna did that night, but I know what Kim and I did. God knows it wasn't the fancy kind of honeymoon I wanted to give her, but I promised her some day I'd make it up to her. That some day I'd take her to Hawaii, or Niagara Falls, or New York City, or wherever she wanted to go. Kim, being the person she was, told me she didn't care where we spent our honeymoon as long as we were together.

        "By the next night we were back home. My parents weren't pleased with me, not pleased at all, but at least they knew where I went. I'd left them a note. Kim, on the other hand, was afraid to leave a note for fear her father would track us down. Her folks were frantic by the time we showed up on their doorstep. When her father saw me standing there, and found out we were married, he came at me with fire in his eyes. He probably would have killed me if my dad hadn't shown up right about then. He must have known there'd be trouble. He got out of his truck and stood between me and Ben. He said, 'Ben, what's done is done. You can't undo this marriage so you might as well accept the fact that these two kids are in love and are now husband and wife.' "

        "What did your father-in-law say to that?"

        "He didn't say anything. He damn near burst a blood vessel screaming it. 'My daughter is not a half breed's wife! And you better believe I can do something about it! By morning this marriage will be annulled!' My dad just looked at Ben and kind of smiled in that sly way he has when he knows he's got one up on some prejudice pompous ass. He winked and said, 'Ben, I've got a feeling annulling this marriage isn't going to change what happened on the honeymoon. Am I right, kids?'

        "Man, Roy, I wanted the grou