Joeanne Darnell, the youngest attorney in the history of the White Plains Attorney General’s Office, couldn’t believe this day had finally arrived. She took one last look at her reflection, swallowing hard. She’d spent an obscene amount of money on the dark gray suit she was wearing, but it was worth it. It fit her perfectly and looked quietly elegant and professional.

This is it, she thought as she exited the ladies room, heading to her office to pick up her briefcase. She stopped short at the sight of the crowd gathered in front of her desk.

"What’s going on?" she asked quietly, her heart secretly thudding in her chest. Are they going to replace me?

Sylvia Lane, her supervisor, smiled at her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "We just want to wish you good luck. You’ve worked damn hard on this case; none of us thought it had a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding. But after everything you’ve uncovered...well, no matter what happens, we’re all proud of you. That’s all." The other attorneys chimed in with similar encouragement, wishing her well; it was obvious from their expressions that they were sincere.

Joeanne couldn’t speak past the lump that had formed in her throat. She had wondered if the day would ever come that the people here would stop thinking of her as some brash kid and just think of her as one of their own. "Thank you," she finally choked out. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this validation until just this moment, her knees almost weak with it.

Sylvia ceremoniously handed over Joeanne’s briefcase. "Knock ‘em dead, kid."

Joeanne felt unusually solemn as she headed towards the elevator. The butterflies in her stomach were no match for the swelling of determination that filled her. Dan, Jim and Trixie would be there; she had good witnesses, convincing evidence and baby Sammy was counting on her. She had to make the jury believe that a mother could make her own child sick; she had to.

Go Batman! she almost heard her mother whisper as the doors closed. She could not fail. It wasn’t an option.

*   *   *

Jim knew that talking Trixie out of going to the trial wasn’t an option so he did the next best thing; he went with her. At least Honey is safe at home, he thought petulantly, stealing a sideways glance at Trixie as they settled in their seats near the back of the courtroom, where they wouldn’t distract Joeanne. Honey was still dizzy and weak from her concussion, and under strict doctor’s orders not to leave her apartment for a week.

Brian told Jim privately that after everything that happened, he was secretly relieved that her doctor had given that order. "Your sister can be awfully stubborn about this kind of thing, and she wouldn’t have taken this doctor’s orders, I’ll tell you!"

"My sister can be stubborn?" Jim had retorted, and Brian had smiled sympathetically at him.

Jim unconsciously let out a sigh as he let his eyes roam around the room. He never realized so many men had dark hair...

"What?" Trixie asked, laying her hand on top of his. She had a pretty good idea what was making him so nervous, but there was no way she could miss the trial after everything they’d been through.

He turned his hand over and twined his fingers through hers. "Nothing," he said.

"I love you, mother bear."

"Oh shut up!" he said weakly.

Dan joined them then, sliding into his chair with a frown. "Damn, I never realized how many guys have dark hair," he said, wondering what made Jim let out a short laugh.

"Everybody has to go through a metal detector before they come in here, and those court bailiffs look like they can handle just about anything," Trixie commented. Because of everything that had happened, there were extra bailiffs on duty.

"Yeah, I suppose." Dan glanced at her; if you looked closely you could still see the faintest trace of a bruise on her forehead.

The Courtroom was pretty full, which didn’t surprise Trixie. There had been quite a few newspaper articles about the case, which drew an interested public. Plus there was the usual small crowd of people who attend trials as a kind of hobby. She made a face at the sight of Mrs. Lewis, perfectly dressed in a demure ‘mother-of-the-year’ dress, bending her head as her attorney whispered something in her ear. Suddenly she stiffened.

"Dan," she hissed, tilting her head to the right with a significant look. Mr. Lewis entered the courtroom looking tired, pale and determined, slinking onto his seat and not looking at anyone.

Dan’s gaze raked over him expertly. "He’s not armed," he whispered back and Trixie nodded--she’d already ascertained that as well.

Jim tightened the hand that was still holding Trixie’s and he felt an answering squeeze. Nothing’s going to happen in a courtroom packed full of people. Nobody is that stupid, he thought desperately. He glanced at Dan and was reassured by his usual alert readiness. Although he was no slouch himself when it came to self-defense and protection, he had to admit that when it came to this type of business, Dan was the man you wanted to have around. It was a great day for everyone when Regan brought his ‘experiment’ to Sleepyside, Jim thought. There wasn’t anything Dan wouldn’t do for the people in his life, and Jim was glad to count him as one of his closest friends.

"We really don’t know if he’s the one; we need to keep our eyes open," Trixie said, her voice low. Her glance took in Meggie sitting with her parents and boyfriend a few rows ahead of her; frankly she was surprised that the girl had been able to talk them into coming at all. She must be one persuasive girl.

Meggie, as if sensing that she was thinking about her, turned her head and smiled slightly at her. It had been quite a battle, but like Trixie, she couldn’t bear not attending the trial. Not after everything she went through. She was serious about majoring in Criminology once she graduated from high school and she wasn’t about to hide at home. Her parents hadn’t liked it, not one bit, but when they saw how determined she was they told her she could attend as long as they went with her. Even Andy finally seemed resigned to her choice of career, asking her in a low voice if he could come too.

"Agreed," Dan replied. His gaze took in Joeanne sitting at the table at the front, buried in her notes, and his face tightened. He’d keep his eyes open all right. "Don’t let me do anything stupid," he muttered to Trixie, who immediately knew what he meant.

"Wow, you’re really serious about her, aren’t you?" she asked quietly.

In typical Dan fashion, his reply was short and to the point. "Yeah," was all he said. Trixie wisely said nothing more, but her eyes lit up in spite of the tension. When Dan and Joeanne had visited her after the accident, she could immediately tell from their body language that they were together, and she was glad for both of them.

They grew quiet as the Court bailiff bade them to all rise, the judge striding into the room. His stern face silently sent the message that serious business was at hand before he sat down, banging his gavel to indicate that court was in session, and asking that everyone be seated.

Joeanne took a deep breath and rose when asked if the state was prepared to make an opening statement. "We are, your Honor." She faced the jury and spoke the words she had spent the past week preparing, the words she’d spoken over the phone to her parents just to try them out, the words she’d practiced in the dark while laying in Dan’s arms. They had to be perfect and they were.

"I’m convinced," Jim whispered to Trixie afterwards, impressed.

"That kicked ass!" she whispered back enthusiastically, causing both men to smile.

Joeanne sat back down, outwardly composed. Whew! Okay, okay, that went well. I laid out all the facts, I kept my emotions out of it, okay; okay. She schooled her face into a mild "gee, what a shame that this nice man has been so fooled by his client" expression as Mrs. Lewis’s attorney began to speak. Her heart sank as his words went on and on, painting the sad picture of a single mother who lives only for her child, a child ripped away from her just when he needs her the most...

"Arghh, give me a break," Dan muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Trixie. When she didn’t reply, he glanced at her troubled face. "C’mon Trix, you’re not actually buying this crap, are you?"

"Well no, of course not. It’s just...God Dan, you’re not a parent. You just can’t..." Trixie shook her head. "Even knowing everything I know, this is getting to me. And if it’s getting to me, it’s getting to them," she continued, indicating the rapt jury with a tilt of her head.

"Jim?" Dan looked at his normally level-headed friend.

Jim forced the image of Katy, sick and alone and crying, wondering why he wasn’t there with her, out of his head. "Oh yeah--it’s affecting me too. Joeanne’s really got her work cut out for her."

Dan sat back, silent. Joeanne had told him this would happen, but he didn’t believe her. For him, it was pretty cut and dried--as incomprehensible as the idea was, the facts were there. How could anybody ignore them? But Jim and Trixie were two of the smartest people he knew; he respected their judgment. And if they were having a hard time, he could only imagine the difficulties the jury was up against. He hoped they were able to put their emotions aside when the time came.

Trixie sat up straighter when Sammy’s nurse took the stand--things were about to get very interesting. "That’s the nurse I told you about. Katje," she whispered to Jim.

After Joeanne had questioned her about her years of experience, letting Katje’s calm intelligence speak for itself, she asked her to tell the jury about Munchausen by Proxy syndrome. "We’ve already heard the psychiatrist’s explanation, but I think the jury would benefit from hearing about your experiences with this illness," Joeanne said, guessing that the jury would more likely believe a ‘working class’ person’s explanation over a high priced doctor’s.

"Objection, your Honor! This woman is not a licensed psychiatrist and anything she has to say is only speculation," Mrs. Lewis’ attorney protested.

"She has twenty years experience as a nurse, and I’m not asking her to repeat the complicated medical definitions, only share her considerable experience," Joeanne countered calmly. Inside she was quaking--if the judge sustained the objection, a strong part of her case was gone. She still had the evidence that Meggie uncovered and the undeniable lab results, but in a case as emotional as this one, she needed to throw everything she had at the jury.

"Objection overruled. You may continue."

Katje nodded seriously and began; using the simplest terms and leaving her own emotions out of the picture, she wove a hideous tapestry of medical horror and family betrayal.

"You state that this is the most difficult form of child abuse to detect. Why is that?" Joeanne asked.

Katje looked grim. "Doctor’s rarely have the time to check pediatric records. Instead, they rely almost exclusively on parental reporting. It’s an open license to fabricate symptoms."

"Can you share an example of this with the jury?"

"Unfortunately, I can. Many years ago, a young boy was brought to the hospital I was working in at the time. His mother claimed that he was born with chronic stomach problems, that he’d always had a problem with digestion. And indeed, the youngster was unable to keep anything down and suffered from almost constant pain and diarrhea."

"And what happened with this young child?"

"He died not long after. Fortunately, the doctor had an extensive autopsy performed because the severity of the symptoms was so acute."

"And what did this autopsy reveal?" Joeanne asked, knowing that the answer would plant the first seed of possibility in the jury’s mind.

Katje’s voice held a hint of sadness. "Toxicology analysis of the boy’s tissues revealed an elevated level of arsenic. The mother was called in for questioning and her purse confiscated. The investigators tested the bottle of Kaopectate she had in there and found it contained traces of rat poisoning."

The jury gasped audibly as Mrs. Lewis’ attorney leapt to his feet. "Objection! This has absolutely no bearing on this case and I ask that it be stricken from the record."

"Your honor, it goes hand in hand with the psychiatrist’s explanation of Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome, which testimony you did allow."

"Ms. Darnell, I do not need to be reminded of what I have allowed and not allowed," the judge said severely. "However, your point is taken and the objection is overruled. The remarks will remain on the record."

"Woo hoo!" Trixie said softly.

"Damn, Joeanne was right. This judge is a hard ass," Dan commented.

"But at least he’s fair," Jim pointed out.

The nurse’s testimony continued, mainly concerning Sammy’s rapid improvement once out of the care of his mother. Mrs. Lewis’s attorney cross examined her, and Katje calmly answered his questions about Mrs. Lewis’ love and concern.

"In your opinion," he said, shooting a ‘what a shame this bitter woman is so severely mistaken about my client’ look at Joeanne, "did Deborah Lewis behave like a concerned parent?"

"Yes; outwardly. She rarely left the hospital and seemed genuinely upset by the situation."

"Thank you. I have nothing further for this witness."

"You’re excused," the judge said and Katje stepped down. Her eyes met those of Deborah Lewis’ for a moment and they weren’t accusing, only sad and tired. Her first duty was to protect Sammy, but she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret over the young mother. The mother who had poisoned her son all those years ago had suffered a complete nervous breakdown upon her arrest, and was still housed in a mental facility. She had an emotionally deprived childhood with a history of physical abuse, a combination that is usually found in most Munchausen cases.

 

All that matters is that Sammy is safe, Katje reminded herself, but it never failed to depress her how some people simply cannot escape their pasts. It depressed her even more that these same people usually ended up perpetuating the cycle by harming their own children, literally insuring that the generations to come would carry the pain forward into the future.

Dr. Uniat took the stand next and Joeanne wasted no time. "Doctor, please tell the jury about the events that took place last Tuesday."

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, carefully keeping his gaze away from the young mother who was staring at him with a pleading expression. "Samuel suffered what we believed at the time was a seizure."

"But that wasn’t the case at all, was it?" Joeanne said, giving him a look. This was no time for misplaced sympathy.

Dr. Uniat’s expression tightened, but he knew she was right. It was a galling thing, having to admit that this...kid had been right all along. But as a medical professional he could no longer ignore what was right in front of him. "No. Sammy suffered from a severe hypoglycemic reaction brought on by elevated insulin levels."

"Elevated insulin levels," Joeanne repeated, knowing that the jury could not help but see the parallel between what happened to Sammy and what happened to the unfortunate little boy that Katje talked about. "Could this occur naturally in a person?"

He shook his head. "No, it could not."

"How then could something like this happen?"

Dr. Uniat’s tone was grim and for the first time he allowed his gaze to rest upon Mrs. Lewis. "It could only happen if Insulin was injected into a non-diabetic person," he said heavily. Mrs. Lewis looked at the table.

Joeanne walked to her table and carefully picked up the object that was lying there. Thank you Meggie! she thought as she carried it over to the doctor. "Doctor, can you tell us what this is?"

The older man’s face tightened, his expression black. "It’s a syringe, the type commonly used to administer insulin."

Joeanne handed it to the judge. "The people ask that this be marked into evidence as exhibit A." She turned to the jury. "A young volunteer found this under Sammy’s crib, not long after she discovered him having what appeared to be a seizure." She was glad to see that she had the jury’s undivided attention. "Independent lab testing found that it had contained Insulin," she finished. There could be no mistaking her meaning and Joeanne was gratified to see that several members of the jury were taking careful notes.

She turned back to the doctor. "Doctor Uniat, could you tell the jury about your findings after this information came to light?"

Even from the back, Trixie, Jim and Dan could see the severe expression on his face. "I almost feel sorry for the old fool," Jim muttered.

"I don’t," Dan and Trixie said together. "He’s the one who didn’t report Mrs. Lewis’ constant visits," Trixie added.

"As meds are always carefully accounted for, we did a record check and found that a syringe of insulin was missing from the nurse’s station on Sammy’s floor. This led to us testing Sammy for traces of insulin, which we did indeed find."

Joeanne went in for the kill. "Dr. Uniat, where was Mrs. Lewis on the day in question?"

The doctor was slow in answering. "She was where she always was; in the waiting room in between visits with her son."

"And can you tell us the location of this waiting room?"

"It is located right next to the nurse’s station."

"Thank you, Doctor. I have no further questions."

Meggie squeezed Andy’s arm. "I know how upset you were, but I will NEVER regret going into Sammy’s room that day," she said intensely. He turned his head and looked at her steadily.

"Why do I have to be in love with a girl who puts me through such agony?" he asked, but his eyes were tender. It had finally occurred to him that he had two choices, and the one that was right for him involved being in a position where he could actually be of help.

Meggie gulped and didn’t say anymore. She wished he hadn’t picked such a public place to tell her he was in love with her, but there was no denying the tingle that was starting in her toes and steadily traveling upwards. "Mrs. Lewis is taking the stand," she finally said, tearing her eyes back to the front. But she left her hand tucked in his arm, her fingers warm on his bicep.

Trixie let her eyes wander the room as the young mother took the stand, raising her right hand and swearing under penalty of perjury to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She noticed that Mr. Lewis’ hands were clenched into fists, his gaze impenetrable as he stared at his ex-wife, his lines of his body tensed and ultra alert. But everybody in the room was staring at Mrs. Lewis--Trixie supposed it was only natural. She’s the star of this horror movie, after all, Trixie thought tiredly. She wished Honey was with her, but she understood why it was better for her to be at home.

She started as Dan grabbed his arm, her happy thoughts about Honey’s impending motherhood shattered. "Trix, look at that guy sitting all the way in the back."

She glanced discreetly towards the rear corner of the court room and frowned at the unusually intense expression standing out on the man’s features. Even though it was warm in the packed room, he was still wearing his fleece cap and heavy coat.

"What is it?" Jim whispered alertly.

Dan shook his head. "I don’t know. I just don’t like it."

"What?" Trixie asked, turning back to Dan. "He looks pretty involved, but look around; everybody in the room is staring at Mrs. Lewis. Mr. Lewis is the one who looks like he’s about to explode."

Dan shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know," he said again. He didn’t want to say that back in his gang days, if they saw another gang member with that expression, they knew they had to take him out before he took out one of them.

Joeanne had expected Mrs. Lewis’ attorney to point out that her fingerprints were not found on the syringe when he cross examined Dr. Uniat, so she wasted no time getting back on track. "Mrs. Lewis, how would you explain the fact that Sammy only weighed nine pounds when you bought him in to Beth Abraham Hospital last month?"

"Sammy’s always had a very delicate digestion. He is allergic to everything except breast milk and," she broke off and bit her lip before continuing, "I’m afraid I haven’t always been able to keep up with his demand."

"According to the Nurse’s testimony we heard earlier, Sammy not only had no trouble digesting the formula they fed him, he thrived, gaining both weight and health. How do you account for that?"

"I don’t understand it," Mrs. Lewis said softly. "It wasn’t like that at home."

Joeanne glanced at her notes. "Mrs. Lewis, you’ve taken Sammy to five different hospitals since he’s been born, and he’s had numerous doctors of record. Can you explain this?" Thanks love, Joeanne thought to herself. Dan’s part in the investigation had involved tons of phone calls and interviews with doctors, uncovering a trail that had led to hospitals all over the state of New York.

Mrs. Lewis straightened. "I love my son. If I don’t like the way a doctor is handling his health, then I have the right to take him to somebody else. What’s wrong with that?"

"What’s wrong with it is you would move on when they would start to become suspicious, when they would start to wonder why Sammy’s symptoms never seemed to have any logical cause."

Mrs. Lewis’ attorney rose. "Perhaps Ms. Darnell would like to save her closing argument for the end of the trial?"

"Sustained. Ms. Darnell, do you have any more questions for this witness?" the judge said warningly.

Joeanne was serene--her point had not been lost on the jury. "Yes, your Honor, I do." She turned back to Mrs. Lewis. "Mrs. Lewis, isn’t it true that you once had a daughter?" Mrs. Lewis turned white as her attorney leapt to his feet objecting to the relevance of this information.

"Your Honor, I am trying to show that a pattern exists here."

The Judge took a moment and Joeanne almost stopped breathing. "I’ll allow it, but I’ll stop it immediately if it becomes clear to me that you are introducing wild speculations and unfounded suspicions."

"Your Honor, this is pointless to the point of being cruel! Hasn’t my client been through enough?"

The Judge frowned darkly. "Your objection has been overruled," he repeated, his tone clear that the matter was closed. "Mrs. Lewis, you will please answer the question," he said in a softer voice.

Mrs. Lewis wrung her hands. "Yes," she whispered.

Suddenly, Mr. Lewis leapt to his feet. "You don’t have to say anymore!" he yelled angrily.

The judge slammed his gavel down. "Sir, take your seat and do not interrupt these proceedings again or I will have you held in contempt of Court."

Trixie, Dan and Jim had all gone rigid at Mr. Lewis’ outburst. Trixie could tell from the alert postures of Meggie, her parents and Andy that they were pretty much thinking the same thing that they were thinking.

Trixie glanced at the rear corner of the room again, but the man Dan pointed out had apparently left.

Joeanne took a deep breath before continuing. "Mrs. Lewis, isn’t it true that your daughter died under mysterious circumstances?"

"They weren’t able to find a cause," Mrs. Lewis choked out.

Dan looked at Mr. Lewis and was disconcerted to realize the man was crying brokenly, his face buried in his hands. He felt some of the tension leave his body--there was no way this man was capable of even standing, let alone hurting anybody.

"Oh man," Jim muttered, following Dan’s look. It wasn’t difficult to imagine his own reaction if anything like that ever happened to his own daughter. It was such an awful thought that he felt that morning’s breakfast churn in his stomach.

"Would it surprise you to know that a toxicology analysis has revealed a cause? That the Attorney General’s Office was able to obtain a Court order to have such a test performed?"

Mrs. Lewis remained silent, twisting her hands, tears running down her face.

Joeanne walked back to her table and picked up a file, handing it to the judge. "The People ask that these test results be admitted into the record as Exhibit B." She faced Mrs. Lewis. "The tests show that your daughter died from a severe hypoglycemic reaction. A reaction, as Dr. Uniat’s testimony revealed, that is caused by Insulin introduced into the system of a non-diabetic person." She felt pain fill her and could not stop her voice from slightly rising above the professionally calm pitch she’d been using. "Couldn’t you even come up with a different method?"

"Objection!" Mrs. Lewis’ attorney was practically purple.

"I withdraw the question. Mrs. Lewis, doesn’t it strike you as odd that Sammy is suffering from the same set of symptoms as his sister?" Joeanne added grimly.

Mr. Lewis had stopped crying and was staring at Joeanne as if she’d grown a second head, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscle jumped. Dan unconsciously started to rise until Trixie’s hand on his arm stilled him. "It’s okay," she hissed at him. "There’s a bailiff right by him and he’s paying attention," she pointed out. She moved her hand up his arm and squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

"I’m a good mother," Mrs. Lewis said jerkily, swiping at her eyes as the tears started to roll.

"You’re not, Mrs. Lewis." Joeanne’s voice was suddenly flat and bleak. Trixie felt a little shiver as she recognized the desolate expression filtering through Joeanne’s expressive face. It was the same look she had when she first described the case to her and Honey, the look that had Trixie wondering why she was taking this case so personally.

"I took care of them!" Mrs. Lewis cried out.

"You hurt them! You hurt your son and you killed your daughter. You killed her!" Joeanne yelled. Her eyes burned with an unnatural light, her face pale except for two bright spots of color flaming in her cheeks.

"She...she...she was only supposed to get sick. She wasn’t supposed to die!" Mrs. Lewis wailed. She looked at Joeanne and her eyes were confused. "I’m a good mother," she repeated, her voice dazed. For a moment, the silence in the room was almost deafening as the truth of Mrs. Lewis’ words filled the spectators with undeniable horror.

"Oh my God," Trixie breathed. Even though it was what she suspected, hearing it spoken so plainly and undeniably filled her with an almost wild grief. She gripped Jim’s hand and closed her eyes, opening them when she heard Mr. Lewis over the din of the excited audience and the judge’s gavel pounding for order.

"How could you do it? Why? Why?" he screamed out, rising unsteadily to his feet. He didn’t resist when the nearby bailiff gently took his arm and began to lead him out of the room.

Meggie wept on Andy’s shoulder while her father, sitting on her other side, rubbed her back. Never in her entire life had she heard something so awful, so entirely evil it took her breath away. She allowed them to lead her out of the room, wanting nothing more than to return to her teenage life. She hadn’t changed her mind about her chosen profession, but she’d had enough for one day.

Joeanne sank back down at the table, trembling, her emotions running riot. A part of her was savagely glad for she knew that Sammy was finally and unequivocally safe. But she was also consumed with a grief that had never left her, a sorrow she doubted she’d ever be free from.

"This Court is adjourned and the jury excused with the thanks of the Court," the judge barked. He ordered the bailiffs to take Mrs. Lewis into custody and was lifting his gavel to officially end the trial when the figure rushed up to the witness stand. "You lying...I loved you so much and you lied to me. All this time I’ve been coming to the hospital with you and feeling like I wanted to die every time you cried! And it was all just a lie!" Mrs. Lewis kept her eyes on the ground, her face blank.

A bailiff grabbed him from behind, turning him around as he struggled to subdue him, pushing him towards the back of the room where there were small interview rooms as Mrs. Lewis was led away.

As they neared to where she was sitting, Trixie let out a loud gasp as she was flooded with images, the excited babble of the courtroom fading as everything went into slow-motion around her. She remembered opening her eyes to find smoke curling up from the smashed in hood, filling the car so she could hardly see. Her heart freezing as she realized that Honey had gotten the worst of the impact, that she was unconscious and obviously pinned behind the wheel. But mostly she remembered his eyes, the eyes of the man approaching the car and peering inside, the same eyes that were now meeting her own. If it hadn’t have been for the cop showing up when he did, there was no doubt in Trixie’s mind that this man would have finished them off. And Honey was stuck...

"Trix, what’s wrong?" Jim asked, hearing her muffled exclamation of fear and feeling her fingers bite into his hand as the memories swept through her, overwhelming and completely immobilizing her. She tried to answer but only a moan came out. He looked to where she was staring just as the man stopped struggling with the bailiff, his cap falling off to reveal dark wavy hair.

"You!" he said before he could stop himself. It had never occurred to him that either one of those women had survived the crash. When he’d approached the car they’d both looked dead and he’d been consumed with guilt ever since.

He’d never loved anyone the way he’d loved his girlfriend Deborah, believing her when she told him that she was being persecuted, wanting nothing more out of life than to protect her. When he’d seen the women at the hospital and understood what they were trying to do, he’d been filled with a blind range. He’d only wanted to frighten them away and had been horrified at the sight of their lifeless bodies in the twisted, burning BMW.

"This is the guy that ran you off the road?" Jim’s eyes flashed black murder. With an economy of motion he went for the dark haired man, ignoring the startled bailiff, his fist connecting with a satisfying crack of knuckles on bone.

Trixie’s mouth fell open and she was finally able to speak. "Dan, stop him before something terrible happens!" she begged. Dan dove towards his friend, two Court bailiff’s joining in, and it took all three of them.

Jim shrugged off the other men, but he stood quietly, breathing heavily.

"No don’t," the dark haired man said as the second bailiff began to place Jim in custody. He looked at Jim. "He had good reason, believe me." Blood was streaming out of his nose and he accepted the first bailiff’s handkerchief, pressing it onto his face with his one free hand.

"Just what the hell is going on here?" the first bailiff asked, tightening his grip on the dark haired man. It wasn’t really necessary; all the fight had completely left him.

"I was only trying to protect the woman I love, I was just trying to scare them," he said bleakly. "You can understand that, can’t you?"

Jim could feel the knuckles of his right hand throb with pain. "You could have killed them," he replied, his voice heavy with malice. He could understand wanting to protect the woman he loved, all right. "And you attacked a young girl--I don’t have to understand anything, you son of a bitch." He put the arm that wasn’t being held behind his back around Trixie as she joined him.

The man flinched but didn’t deny it. It was like he’d been living in a cloud of confusion and was finding the revealed sunlight blinding.

"You’re both going to have to come with us," the first bailiff insisted.

"Look, let him go man. Everything he’s saying is true. And I don’t want to press assault charges, so what’s the point?" The dark haired man stared at the floor. He didn’t really care what happened. He’d envisioned a life with Deborah and Sammy and now he had nothing. Nothing except for the knowledge that he’d hurt innocent people.

"Fine," the second bailiff said, letting go of Jim’s arm. "But I want you out of my courtroom, okay buddy?"

Jim let out an ironic laugh. "I don’t ever want to be in your courtroom again, believe me." He watched as they led the subdued man away, still feeling the adrenaline rush, still secretly wanting to smash the guy’s face in.

"Damn Jim, I didn’t know you had it in you!" Dan joked. "I thought you were too honorable for vigilante justice." He glanced at Joeanne’s table, but she was already gone, no doubt talking to the Judge in his chambers.

"It isn’t funny. You could have been arrested for assault," Trixie said, pulling away from him. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"That I wanted to kill the guy who hurt you and Honey," Jim admitted sheepishly. Now that the red haze of anger was finally leaving him, he was a bit nonplussed at his violent behavior.

Trixie groaned. "What am I going to do with you? First Mr. Griffin and now this guy. You’re out of control, buddy!"

Jim began to smile weakly. "What can I say, you just bring out the wild animal in me."

"Well, on that note, I’m going to find Joeanne who also brings out the wild animal in me," Dan said, shooting for a lighter mood. He faced his two close friends. "Man, lighten up. Don’t you guys realize what’s happened? Sammy is safe--he never has to worry about being hurt by that Looney again!"

Trixie’s eyes lit up--she’d been so consumed by her own dark memories and her worry over Jim, she’d almost forgotten. "You’re absolutely right, Dan. We’ve won. We’ve won!" She threw her arms around Jim and hugged him tightly, suddenly overcome with the relief and joy that had been eluding her ever since she agreed to help Joeanne with this case.

"You owe me so big, my friend," Dan whispered to Jim, his black eyes shining. He wanted nothing more than to find Joeanne and congratulate her, Dan style.

"I think you’ve known that for a long time," Jim replied lightly. Dan had never let him express his thanks for everything he did during the whole Kyle Dalton affair, and he could tell by his expression that now was not an exception. "Come on you guys, let’s go find Joeanne and do a victory war dance or something." He laughed at the sudden expression on Dan’s face. "Oh, we won’t stay long, Casanova!" He ducked Dan’s playful swing.

But Joeanne wasn’t in the Judge’s chambers after all. "She left just a minute ago," the judge told them, taking an enormous swig of coffee. "What a day," he said, shaking his head. He hoped he never had to preside over such an awful case again.

"I wonder why she didn’t come see us?" Dan said, his eyes troubled. He was getting the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

"Let’s go to her office; maybe she’s there," Trixie suggested, her blue eyes reflecting Dan’s worry.

They found the elevator and rode up to her floor in worried silence, but she wasn’t there either. They spoke to an older Hispanic woman who, Trixie remembered, was Joeanne’s supervisor.

"We’ve all been waiting for her, to congratulate her, but she didn’t come back," Sylvia Lane said, her face set in worried lines. "Please, when you find her, have her call me and let me know she’s all right." She shook her head, pushing her hair behind her neck when it swung over her shoulders. "This kind of case can consume you. I don’t mind telling you I’m very worried about her."

The three friends were sober when they rode the elevator down to the parking garage. "I’m going to her apartment," Dan said decisively, worry like a cold fist in his stomach.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Trixie asked.

Dan shook his head. "No. I know you guys are worried too, but let me do this. Okay?"

"Call us if you need anything at all," Jim said as Trixie was opening her mouth to protest.

Dan strode to his car without a backward glance as Trixie turned to Jim.

"I think we should go with him--he looks a little nuts!"

"That’s why we need to stay out of it." Jim looked at Trixie’s determined face and sighed. "All right. Tell me I’m being a real jerk and that you don’t appreciate me answering for you."

His statement was so uncannily accurate that she grinned, feeling her momentary irritation fade away. "You know, I really hate that. You make it impossible for me to stay ticked off at you. That is so unfair!"

"Well you know what they say about fair; it’s where pigs go to win ribbons!" Jim threw one of her favorite sayings at her as they reached his Tahoe. He opened the door for her and bowed mockingly.

"Yeah, yeah," Trixie muttered, getting in and closing the door. She turned to him as he sat beside her, closing his door and putting the keys in the ignition. "But I’m still worried about Joeanne. She should be happy; this is what she’s worked for."

"I know. I’m worried about her too. But Dan will find her and everything will be okay."

"How do you know?"

Jim leaned towards her and drew her into a tight embrace. "Because. Whether he knows it or not, he’s in love with her. And he’ll do whatever it takes." He laid his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes. "I really did want to kill that guy," he admitted quietly.

"I know," Trixie said, pressing her face into his shirt, her arms sliding up his back. "I know you did."

*   *   *

Dan was just about to kick the door in when Joeanne finally opened it. "What?" she said numbly, her face drawn and tired.

"What? We were worried sick about you, you just disappeared on us, that’s what!" Dan exclaimed.

"I’m sorry about that. I just had to get out of there," she said, pushing the words past her lips.

"Joeanne, what’s the matter? You won." Dan entered her apartment, closing the door and putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes. I won." Joeanne’s voice sounded so strange that Dan was frightened. "I’m going to have a coke. You want anything?"

"I want you to tell me what the hell is going on with you," he said, putting his arms around her.

Joeanne wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his embrace, but she had to hold onto her control before she revealed everything. If that happened, he would stop looking at her like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. "Dan, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’ve been under a lot of pressure and I’m just really tired." She pulled away from him and went into the kitchen.

Dan stood there a moment then followed her. "Aren’t you glad that Sammy is safe?" He wanted to understand why she looked like she just attended a funeral.

Joeanne closed the refrigerator door. "God yes," she said passionately. At least I was able to save him, she thought, feeling unshed tears burn behind her eyes.

"Then why are you acting like it’s the end of the world?"

Joeanne sank down at the table and buried her face in her hands. "I don’t want to talk about it," she choked.

Dan sat across from her. "You have to," he said simply.

"Why?"

"Because ever since I’ve met you, there’s been this thing hanging over your head. And whatever it is, it’s making you so sad," Dan said slowly.

Joeanne jumped to her feet, suddenly feeling as if she’d been stripped nude and set down in a crowded shopping mall. "I think you should leave," she said desperately. She began to walk into the living room when Dan’s hand on her arm stopped her.

"Joeanne..."

She jerked her arm away. "Please just go," she moaned, stumbling into the living room. She sank down on the couch, no longer able to hold back her tears of despair. Was she going to feel bad for the rest of her life?

"I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong," Dan said firmly, sitting down beside her and crossing his arms. He had the air of a man who isn’t going to move for a hundred years.

"Why is it so important to you?" she asked, looking at him through a blur of moisture.

"Because I have a very low tolerance for your pain," he admitted a bit awkwardly, tracing under her eye with his thumb. When she remained silent he added stiffly, "I realize you haven’t known me for very long, but I just thought...well. I guess I was uh..." Dan stood up. "I’m an idiot," he said flatly. "I’m sorry." He was so sorry he thought he might actually drop dead. He stood up and headed for the door, wondering why God thought falling in love with somebody was such a hot idea. As far as he was concerned, it pretty much sucked.

"Dan...wait. Please don’t go," she cried.

"Why is it so important to you?" he said sarcastically, trying to push past the pain.

"Oh my God, forget it and get the hell out. I can’t believe I was actually worried that if I told you, you might not want to see me anymore." Joeanne’s chest was heaving as she choked out the words.

Dan could not believe he had said what he said--it was like he was having an out-of-body experience and his evil twin Skippy was in charge of his mouth. "Would it help if I said I was an asshole?"

"It might." Joeanne stared at him incredulously; wondering how the hell they’d gotten there. "Did we just have our first fight?"

"Yeah, I guess we did. And I really am sorry for what I said." Dan sat back down and took her hand, playing with her fingers. "Don’t you know there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me not want to see you anymore? Well, except for ‘Dan, I don’t want to see you anymore’, I suppose." He had meant for his words to be light but realized they were anything but.

"Well, I should probably spend some more time making you feel terrible, but what the heck. I haven’t any immediate plans to say that I don’t want to see you anymore. Because for some insane reason, I do!" Joeanne felt a little lightheaded at Dan’s obvious interest in her. Now if she could just keep it...

"And now I’m realizing that I’ve been skillfully led away from our original topic of conversation." Dan said, looking her in the eye. When she lowered her gaze he lifted her chin with his finger. "Please tell me why you ran from the court today, and why you get such a sad expression sometimes."

"I don’t mean this sarcastically; I just really need to know. Why is this so important to you?"

"I told you; I have a low tolerance for your pain. I’m worried about you. And," Dan figured she had a point, he could hardly expect her to reveal something so obviously personal and hold back himself, "I guess I need to know that you trust me."

"I do trust you. Completely," Joeanne whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. "It...it has to do with Richard." She felt him involuntarily stiffen. "You’re still not allowed to find him and kill him," she joked weakly.

"Did you want to win this case to prove to him that you don’t need him?" Dan asked. The idea displeased him more than he cared to admit.

"No." Joeanne closed her eyes. "I don’t need him. I never needed him. I...after I let the relationship continue, I found out that I...I found out that I was pregnant."

Dan couldn’t stop his sharp intake of breath, pulling her into him when she began to move away. "Then what happened?" he gritted out. He had a pretty good idea and it was literally making him ill with rage.

Joeanne burst into tears. "You know what happened. And it was my fault. I knew, I knew he would react badly to the news. And I made the decision to tell him. I made it. I may as well have gotten an abortion. In a way, I killed my own baby."

"No, you didn’t. You didn’t," Dan said, crushing her into him.

"And I thought, if I can just save Sammy everything will be okay. And it is. For him..."

"Joeanne, it’s not your fault. It’s his fault. Completely. Can’t you see that?" As far as he was concerned, Jim had the right idea. If he ever saw Joeanne’s ex boyfriend again, he wasn’t going to be responsible for his actions.

"I don’t know. Why did I tell him? That’s the question I keep asking myself over and over," Joeanne said, suddenly exhausted.

"It’s the wrong question. The real question is, how can this guy live with himself? Of course you told him--he was responsible. He’s supposed to be an adult." Dan kissed her and stroked her hair. "If you were driving down the street and some guy broadsides you, you wouldn’t say ‘it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have been driving on that road’, would you?"

"That’s hardly the same thing," Joeanne murmured. "I knew he wouldn’t be happy..."

"Did you know he was going to hit you, shove you, cause you to have a miscarriage?" There didn’t seem to be any end to his hatred and rage for Richard, the ex from Hell.

"No..."

"Blaming yourself changes nothing. Isn’t that what you told me the other day?"

Joeanne pressed her face into his neck. "We have really got to stop meeting this way," she joked weakly. She could hardly believe his reaction--it seemed too good to be true that he didn’t think she was a horrible person.

"By blaming yourself, you’re taking away his guilt, you’re excusing his behavior," Dan said firmly. During his time as a police officer, he’d made this speech more times than he cared to remember. And every single time, it was true.

Joeanne went still. "I never looked at it that way," she admitted. Dan felt his heart soar--he knew appealing to her sense of justice was the right way to go.

"Well, keep looking at it that way, okay?"

"I’ll try," Joeanne promised.

"See that you do," Dan joked, kissing the tip of her nose. They sat with their arms around each other in silence for a moment, both needing to absorb the moment.

"Dan, what are we doing?" Joeanne blurted. "I feel so childish for asking this, but if somebody said ‘who’s that’ and I answered ‘that’s my boyfriend’, would I be, um, wrong?"

"Only if you were standing next to somebody who wasn’t me!" Dan laughed, the question delighting him as no question ever had in his whole life. He kissed her until she could hardly remember her own name, the sadness that had held her for so long finally loosening its terrible grip, taking its place in the past. Where it belonged.

Coming soon...the epilogue!

Author’s notes: In the awful-but-true category, because people have such difficulties acknowledging the possibility of a parent purposely injuring their children, cases of Munchausen by Proxy Syndrome are often missed. And approximately 10 percent of MBPS victims die from the physical abuse they endure.

Trixie Belden Homepage