It’s been a while since I last posted a blog. I have to admit that I’ve started several blogs but none have never made it past the “draft” phase.

God has been teaching me so much lately- too much to write down regularly. He has been molding me into a better husband, riding me of my pride, and defeating sin in my life. All of this is for one purpose- to make me more like His Son- Jesus.

When this recent journey started, I was convinced that God was going to me molding me into a better pastor- one who would proclaim truth more boldly, teach with more wisdom, and counsel with more care, but being a pastor is not my sole purpose in life. My sole purpose in life is to glorify God through my relationship with Him and my relationships with the people around me. I’m learning that being a good pastor means being a good Christian first.

I still have a burning passion deep in my bones that has yet to relent. But still, even through the dryness of this season, God has been extremely good to feel me with the peace that only He can give. My heart may be restless but I am learning what Paul must have meant to be content in every situation and in every situation living so that one more person to come to know Jesus as their Lord.

People are Different!

Through the journey of the past few months, I have sat under great Godly men. Men who love their wives well, hate sin with passion, repent regularly, and lead with Vision. I have sat with both the long sense converted and the new to the faith. I have ate lunch with those who who drink beer and those who smoke. I have had heated conversations about faith and religion, and I have been encouraged by the great faith of meek men.

God has been showing me that people are so different than I first imagined. Some I relate to, others I struggle to be around, but one thing is certain, God is all around and working in people’s hearts!

I wish I could say that God has given me some great vision to reach people or some grand plan for the advancement of the Kingdom, but I’d be lying if I did. The truth is, all of these new experience have caused me to question my very purpose in this world. All of these new experiences have made it extremely hard to see God as I once did.

It seems as if life is speeding up and new things are happening too fast to keep up!

But there is good news in this rant! 

I was reading the other day and a story jumped up off the page and smacked me in the face. The story had to do with prayer. In the story, the author was saying that there was this one time early in his faith that he really struggled in his prayer life. Some things had changed drastically in his life and he had come to a point that he no longer felt God’s presence in his life. He told of times where he would sit for hours waiting on God to meet in him prayer. He wrote of a very dry season in his spiritual journey that I really can relate to. But then he told of something a friend told him. He was confessing his struggle with praying to his friend, when his friend told him that he wasn’t praying in faith.

The author felt dumbfounded, he left to conversation enraged! Then it hit him, his friend was right! He wasn’t praying in faith that God was there and cared about his prayers. He realized that he had spent so much time focusing on his “feeling” of desertion, that he forgot that God had made some pretty big promises in Scripture regarding His people.

He realized that God hadn’t left him and that God wasn’t angry with him, but God was testing his faith. This is what caught my attention.

Come on Chris… Are you Blind?

I’ve been so focused on my past mistakes and failures, and have been spending way too much time feeling sorry for myself, that I have forgot that God has made the promise to never leave me. God has been testing my faith, to show me what I my dependency on Him.

I’ve come to figure that I have failed this test dramatically! I’ve been fighting with God and been so angry at Him for no good reason. I’ve felt alone and far from God, but He has been by my side the whole time.

Having faith in an invisible God is really hard, but faith is all about believing what you can’t see. God is here and His loving arms are all around us. My faith is not in my feelings, not in my surroundings, not in my actions, and not in my money, but it is in God. My faith is in a all powerful God who moves mountains, divides seas, raises the dead, and feeds thousands. God is my Rock and my Shelter!

I wish I would have realized this sooner!

When the publisher asked me to do this novella, I didn’t want to at first. But then I thought about it and realized what a great opportunity it would be to use this novella to bring the last book and the next book together. I’m also glad I got this chance to get back to the basics of the series, which focuses mainly on Jase and Luis. In the last book, I focused a lot on Luis’s identical twin brother, Gage, and I wrote most of the book in his POV.

I’m always careful to make sure that all the books in this series will stand alone…in other words, if someone reads the third book in the series they don’t need the two previous books to get it.

But the novella stands alone, too. And there’s no need to read the other books in the series to get it.

***

Sid looked at the study door. It was closed and locked. She found the key in her parents’ bedroom. Which she hadn’t really done anything with. No one would want the clothes if she donated them, not only because they were so far out of date. Apparently her father had kept a few lounge suits from the seventies. That they’d tackle some other day. Maybe some farther away clothing donation place would take them if they hadn’t heard of her parents.

For now, they had the study to deal with. There was also a basement that he had to get the dead, stuffed animal heads out of for his new wife because they creeped her out. He took the small gold key and opened the door, letting her have the old fashioned key back. He opened the door and walked over to open a window to air it out. It smelled musty.

“It’s been ten years since he was in here,” she sighed. She opened the other window for some air movement. They stared. The walls were wood paneled in a darker maple color. The desk was slightly darker wood with a padded executive desk chair behind it. There was a painting right behind it of some castle on a hilltop. The frame matched the wood paneling. She looked at the overstuffed leather couch under one window and then at the bookshelves that acted like a wainscoting line around the room. There was one other picture and she carefully took it down to put in the living room. It was their wedding picture.

Sid looked at the desk, tipping his head to read better. “He was working on that guy in Jersey. Pity they caught him and stuffed him in a cell. He’s there getting fat.” She snickered. “Do we have boxes to put all his papers in?”

“Yup.” She got the bank quality boxes for that. His files were sparse, just newspaper clippings and research notes. Nothing on what had happened or on what he had done. No address or map to his dump site. She moved to look over his bookshelves, finding a lot of literature and a few books she remembered him reading. She checked them for papers. One being moved opened the painting to show the safe.

She stared, coming over to open it. Her birthday ended up being the combination and inside were a few papers and his wedding band. He had put it in here the day he had buried her mother. She found his passport and it got put into a box as well. There were two envelopes in there with her name on them. She sat on the couch to read them, snorting at one. “He wanted me to marry some boy I met in high school so he could threaten him.”

Sid grinned. “Good thing you didn’t.”

“The boy hated me. I tutored him and Father thought it was something else entirely.” She got into the other one, sniffling a bit. “He wrote it the day he went into the hospital.”

“The one he came home from because they sucked?” He came over to sit next to her. She leaned against his arm and finishing read it, letting him have it. It had a page to ‘my eventual son-in-law’ that said he would find a way to come back and kill him as messily as he could if he screwed up with his daughter. The rest was apologizing for all the hell she had to go through over the years and how he had some information on her bosses hidden in the basement. Some of it had been sent to her attorney when he found out she was suing him for that stalking problem her coworker had but not all of it. “We can get it later.”

She nodded, folding it back up and putting the envelopes together. “We can do that.” She looked around. “I need to finish checking the books and see if the local library would like them.”

He smirked. “I know some that would love to collect them.” She smirked. “Think auction instead. That way you can make a bit of money for the kitchen remodeling fund.”

“I have no idea why he didn’t when things started to look disgusting years ago. He replaced most of the appliances but didn’t paint or anything.”

“No idea,” he admitted. He put an arm around her. “We need to paint in here. Lighten it up a lot so you can use it.” She nodded quickly. He grinned. “We can use his bookshelves but they need refinished too.”

“If we remove the paneling we can put up wallboards and paint. Or they make those wallboards with wallpaper on them already. They’re cheap looking but it’d do as a first step until I decide how I want to decorate in here.”

“Wallpaper’s expensive,” he told her. “Meg redid hers at sixty bucks a roll.” She gave him a horrified look. He nodded. “We could just paint the paneling for now.” She ran a hand over the wall behind her. “Paint?”

“It is. So I can see that.” He grinned. “Then I can do a border or something until I’m ready to redecorate.” He nodded. She ran her hand over it again. “I think he painted over something. I can feel some bigger lines like bumps.”

“If we have to, we can take them off and strip the paint. Maybe they look prettier underneath.” She nodded and they got back to the paper storage plan for the day. By the time they had emptied everything it was nearly dinner and he took over cooking duties tonight because she was tired. She was measuring the couches for slipcovers. Because they really could use it. And rearranged. They’d do that after dinner. He’d never understood having the formal living room and the family room split up. At least theirs only had a room divider between them. Though when he looked in there it was all very pretty white and silver furniture. He took down the divider and went to check on dinner.

She smiled, going to measure those as well. Her mother would kill her if anything got spilled on the good furniture. Then she stepped back to look over things. Sid had friends who might come over some day. She checked, they were all heavy pieces. She took down the other room divider they had up. It only screwed into the wall. Then she could strip the wallpaper in here. It was very…feminine in the living room and very regal in the formal living room area. Plus darker.

She looked at the overhead light and sighed, making a note to get a replacement one. Not like she was doing much right now so she could replace that. Sid brought out dinner and they settled in to eat and talk about the front yard. She didn’t really want to extend the garden that way. There were a few areas where her mother had planted flowers way back when but she was good without redoing that. Maybe some bushes. He agreed that was a good idea and suggested they get some anti-thief spiny ones that they could hide more bear traps in. She giggled and swatted him but it wasn’t a bad idea. After dinner she checked the traps and pit for unannounced visitors while he did the dishes. Then they went up to cuddle in bed.

***

Sid came back to work two days later, looking at his boss. “We’ve got to paint and unwallpaper a few rooms.”

He gave him an odd look. “You’re decorating?”

“The house, not my apartment.”

“That’s fine.” He smirked. “The Chief hates you and so does the DA.”

“Bite me,” he complained. But he was smirking. “Anyway, I’m back. In good shape. She’s looking at wallpaper places today and talking to people about stripping the paneling in the office that has something painted underneath it.”

“That’s fine,” he agreed. “Did you find anything?”

“His research files. They’re all boxed up and she’s deciding if she’s donating them anywhere.”

“Good. Anything else happen?”

“It took all day for us to realize that a reporter came out yesterday. She was fine in the pit.”

“There’s a pit trap?” Turner asked dryly.

“Yeah, under the front doormat. He boobytrapped all sorts of things to keep them from being bothered. She joked he did that because some Mary Kay person or Avon lady kept coming around.” He smirked. “There’s some bear traps hidden in the garden just after the huge spiny bush too.”

“Good to know.”

Sid smirked. “We check them daily unless we know something’s there.”

“Even better.” He stared at him. “The DA wanted a call.”

“Yup, I can do that.” He went to his desk to do that, finding a card. “Thanks, guys.” He grinned as he opened it, laughing. “She’s redoing his office into hers so the gift card’s real welcome.” He grinned at his buddies before calling her. “Hey, the guys got us a Home Depot gift card. Sure, come in for lunch.” He grinned. “Gotta call the DA actually. Let me know if you need help. I don’t care. Just not in the living room?” She laughed and described the one she liked for in there. “That’ll work if you don’t think it’s too dark. You know I don’t really care. If it’s that bad, maybe I’ll turn the basement into a guy’s area.” She laughed. “Sure, see you at lunch, Sandra.” He hung up. “Anyone know how to strip paint off paneling to see what’s written underneath it?”

“Beyond the usual paint stripper?” one asked. “No.”

“We’ve got bookcases to paint too. They’re all real dark in his office.” They smirked. “We’re working on it and then comes a kitten remodel.” They moaned and nodded. He called the DA to see what had happened on which case. It had to be case related, the man hated him. He made special effort to get any cases Sid might have to testify to take a deal. “It’s Steinway. You wanted me to call?” He listened, leaning back in his chair. “No, it wasn’t a planned leave but the honeymoon was good,” he said dryly. “Why?” He listened to the case while he looked it up. “No, that wasn’t mine. He came in to confess to Sandra and found me here so he ran and begged.” He made a note on his desk calendar. “That’ll work. I’ll talk to her in a few hours actually. Lunch. Probably here. No, she’s suing them again over rehiring the guy that’s stalking her.”

His deskmate looked at him. “The guy the LA office called to complain about?” Sid nodded. He handed over the note. “They wanted to put him out of her misery as a wedding present.”

Sid grinned. “If he shows up I’ll do it for her since she doesn’t shoot to kill.” He listened to the DA splutter. “Anything else? We’ll call after lunch.” He hung up and called the agent in the LA FBI office that they had worked with in the past. “It’s Steinway.” He smirked. “No, it’s all good. You know what though? I can give you something to make him choke, splutter, and maybe jump off somewhere high.” He gave the desk calendar an evil smirk.

“No, Sandra and I married two days ago.” There was a pause and then a cackle. “You can tell him we’re cleaning out her father’s files. Haven’t found anything. Exactly, yeah. I’ll have her call. I’m seeing her for lunch unless you need her sooner.” He took out his cellphone to text her that message. “She said she’d call. She’s just looking at wallpaper to redecorate her mother’s living room. Let us know, man. Thanks. Happy making him jump.” He hung up. “He’s very happy for us.”

His deskmate balled up something and threw it at him. “You’re so gushy you’re going to lose macho points.”

“Guess that means next case is mine?” he guessed. Everyone in the room smirked and nodded. “Sure, let me know.” He finished up the few things on his desk and warned her the DA wanted to talk about the running rapist. He handed Turner the paperwork and found an open case on a desk that was too full. The detective grinned at him for that mercy.

***

Sandra made it home first, looking around the office. The couches were nice so maybe she’d move them to the living room. She had gotten throw-sheet style slipcovers until the properly measured ones could come in. The couches in there were leather and wood. So maybe one of each? She tried to move one but it wasn’t budging. The other either. So instead she got some old sheets and covered them so she could work on the paint stripping they needed on the paneling. She paused before starting.

She decided to get some brown paper bags and some chalk she had for diagraming cases, making a rubbing of the lines. She thought it might’ve been a map but it didn’t look like one that she understood. She put that onto the desk and came back to pull up her hair and paint over the dark paneling’s paint job. First the primer. A good, thick coat. She could do each bookcase separately. She needed more boxes for the books. They could keep the ones they liked and donate the rest somewhere. By the time Sid got home she had gotten all the wainscoting done and one whole bookshelf. He came in and lounged in the door, smiling at her. “I took a rubbing of those strange lines.” She used the back of her hand to brush her hair off her cheek.

He came in to look, putting his jacket on the desk too. “Doesn’t look like a road system I recognize.” He came over to help.

“We need more boxes for the books.”

“That’s fine. We can work on those areas later.” He settled in to do the trim work for her. She took a kiss and moved to start scraping the wallpaper.

At least until the phone rang. She got it since it was her phone. “Steinway.” She listened. “Yes, I changed my name when I got married,” she said dryly. “Painting my father’s study. Why?” She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t logged on today because I’m supposedly suspended for being born by our very dirty head guy.” She nodded. “Isn’t that Curt what’s-his-name’s cult?” The other profiler looked that up. “Him, yes.” She compared them and then sighed. “Have fun with him. He does worship a female version of God but he’ll sneer we’re not worthy of her. Yup, I’m at home or somewhere. Have fun.” She hung up. “One of the better but very young profilers. Just barely out of her apprenticeship.” She came back to scrape some more of the wallpaper. “What do you think about switching these couches to the living room?”

“I think they’re really heavy and those are softer,” he said, putting down his brush. He pulled her into his lap, making her squeak. He grinned. “I found someone who wants any animal heads he has stored.” She beamed and took a kiss. “So we can clean out whatever he has down there.”

“This weekend?”

“I’m on call this weekend. From Thursday until Tuesday.” She nodded and took another kiss, getting up. “Whose turn it is to make dinner?”

“The pizza place?”

“That’ll work,” he agreed. She paid and he gave her half back. She smirked at him. “We have to split those things,” he teased, swatting her on the butt. Since she was carrying the pizza she could only kick at him. He laughed, taking the box to put on the stove. She got plates and drinks, and they took them to look at the basement. The animal heads were on shelves staring at them. She shuddered so he turned them around. They walked past the shelves of stuffed heads, finding the utility room that had the furnace and water heater. Sid looked. “They look like they’re in good shape.”

“They never get used,” she said dryly.

“Good point.” He checked the bottom of the hot water heater. “Just barely showing some wear so no rust yet.” He walked over to the doorway he found. It was a small storage closet with a folding table desk and chair set. The boxes on the shelves were sealed. He looked in the closest one, nodding. “On your bosses.” He handed that envelope over. The others in the box were other blackmail files.

She looked at the file, nodding. “Nice to know.” She resealed it and looked at the desk. “Box inventory.” He took it to look over. She looked around. “We’re under the kitchen but …” She tapped a wall. Solid concrete. She walked out and looked up the stairs then back down there. “Sid, the basement’s about twenty or twenty-five feet thinner than the house toward the garden.”

He leaned out of the room. “Really?” She nodded. “Huh. Well, once we get the heads out we’ll look for a hidden entrance.”

She came back. “It’s not against the east wall either. It’s short by a few feet.” He went to look. The east wall looked fixed. “Could it be hiding something?”

“I think this side is mostly where someone fixed it,” he told her. “It looks like maybe there was a leak before.”

“So probably from the fire?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. He looked up the stairs then at the nearest wall. He looked over the shelves. He couldn’t find a switch but he was sure there was a room. He found a seam on the floor. A few scrape marks. They carried the other boxes up to the living room so they could go through them. He had time to look in the room. He called his friend to tell him about the animal heads. They’d be up the next night to pick them up. They spent the rest of the night nibbling on pizza and looking at the blackmail files. She ended up falling asleep against his arm, earning a smile. He closed up his current box and carried her up to bed, tucking them in for the night. It was good to be so settled.

***

Chapter 10

I’ve had a few e-mails from readers asking whether or not the books in the Virgin Billionaire series could be read as stand alones. In other words, would someone have to begin with the first book in the series and then read the others consecutively.

And the answer is no. Though each book follows a pattern in the series, each book can also be read on its own. You don’t need to read the first book in order to “get” the fifth. It helps, but I try to make quick explanations in all the books with back story, without getting too long and stopping the story. Also, there are no cliffhangers at the end of the books; no teases to get readers to buy the next book.

If anyone has any questions, feel free to continue to e-mail me. All e-mails I receive are treated with privacy and absolute discretion. You won’t wind up getting spammed.

Sid’s mother, an older woman who had let her hair gracefully white out from the same dark brown that her son’s was, opened the door. “It’s nice my son finally comes for dinner,” she said, giving him a hug. “Son, I see you have a friend?”

“No, Mom, I have a wife.” He pulled her closer. “Sandra, this is my mother. Mom, this is Sandra.”

His mother’s squeal made the neighbors look out their windows at them. “You didn’t tell me!” she complained.

“Sorry, guys, just bringing home the wife since I didn’t let Mom run her over,” he called with a smile and a wave. The neighbors yelled ‘congratulations’ from a few porches and left them alone. “I didn’t tell you because we just did something fast and soothing instead of letting you run all over everything like you did Meg’s. Can we go in? It’s chilly.” She let them into the house, going to rant at his sisters. He smiled at her. “She’s not mad. She’s the sort that’s got to fuss to get it out of her system and then she’ll interrogate you for the family.” Sandra relaxed again so he kissed her. He walked her into the dining room. “Ladies, and I use the term loosely.”

His sisters stared. “You’re bringing her home to talk to Ma?” his sister Meg asked.

“We got married the next day,” he said, helping Sandra into her seat then sitting down. Meg gaped. His other sister stared too.

“Well, it’s about time you quit being a man slut!” his other sister said firmly. “Nice to meet you, Sandra.”

“He’s told me something about you both,” she said, shaking her hand with a smile. “I met Meg when I had to get something for an FBI dinner.”

“We went back the next day to get her something cute,” Sid said with a grin for his sisters. “Because you weren’t working.”

“I probably would’ve told Mom,” she agreed.

“Which I didn’t want. Mom ran over yours like she was directing a movie.”

“Yeah, she did. But that’s what mothers do. As I’m sure our other sister will find out.”

She shook her head. “It may be barely legal in this state but my present girlfriend has no desire for a ring.” She looked at Sandra’s hand. “No engagement ring?”

“I’m having my mother’s resized. She had very thin fingers.”

“I asked, that’s the one she wanted,” Sid said when his sister stared at him.

“So, when is she due?” Meg asked. “You don’t look pregnant at all.”

“Meg, I didn’t even touch her until the night before,” Sid said dryly. “Plenty of people get married by a Justice of the Peace fore reasons other than because they’re knocked up. When she wants kids, she’ll let me know. Not like I’m looking forward to stinky diapers.”

Sandra shuddered. “Give it a few years.”

“You’re not getting any younger,” Meg pointed out with a vicious grin.

“I’m only a year older than your brother and women can have kids up until they’re in their forties.” She smiled sweetly. “Or later thanks to those doctors in the Middle East who’ve let women in their sixties have some.” Meg shuddered. “Beyond that, I want to enjoy him for a bit without waddling, back problems, or having to pee every ten minutes.” Sid’s other sister cackled and nodded. “Some women aren’t really maternal.”

“I think we’ll muddle through fine when we’re ready to have one,” Sid said with a grin. She smirked back. He chuckled and she kissed him quickly. “Want some help in the garden when we’re home?”

“It’ll be dark. I didn’t know you were Pagan. Though I think it is the moon dark,” she said, checking the calendar in her purse. “It is, so if your mind is on fertility rituals tonight is a perfect night for it.” He cackled, kissing her again.

His mother came out with a ham. “Son, she needs air to breathe,” she complained. Her son grinned at her and Sandra put the calendar back. “Did we marry quickly for a reason?”

“No, Mom, I made a smartass comment and she shot me back about pagan rites,” he said dryly.

“Oh.”

“You have a house already?” Meg asked.

“I inherited my family one when my father died. I’ve been keeping my mother’s garden up to snuff for years now. When I was traveling so often for the FBI I showed up one weekend a month to weed. Now that I’m stationed in this region I have a lot more time to prune the roses properly and things.” They all nodded. “Sid, what do you think about slipcovers for mother’s couch?”

“I could definitely like it. It’s a good, comfortable couch, but it is kinda…flowered.” She smiled. “You could tell your mom decorated it about twenty years ago.”

“Just before that I believe. Right after the fire.” She shrugged and patted him on the hand. “Want to help me clean up the study?”

“I’d love to help you go through his stuff.” He linked their hands on the table. “It’ll be fun.”

She smiled. “Dad had a run of taxidermy animal things when he was planning his attack on someone who loved them. So you can find someone who might like them? They’re a bit creepy to me.”

“Gladly. I know a few guys who’d love them.” She grinned. He smiled at his mother. “No, I didn’t jump in lightly, Mom. We knew each other tolerably well before then. We’re well suited and all that. It was just a spur of the moment wedding.”

Sandra nodded. “I didn’t need to be a princess. I don’t have that many people I’d want to invite to something like that either. So the fast wedding was nice, inexpensive, and will let me use the fund my mother set up for my eventual wedding,” she sighed with an eye roll, “to redecorate the house and update the kitchen a bit.”

“I should have started one for my daughters. The one that’s had one was extremely expensive.”

“You’re the one that picked that stuff,” Meg reminded her.

“The other daughter doesn’t seem to want to settle down.”

“My girlfriend said no,” she agreed happily.

“Ours was twenty-five for the certificate, fifty for the wedding, and her dress was what?” Sid asked.

“One-eighty-five.”

“I wondered who bought that white dress,” Meg said, looking down at her. “You probably looked very nice in it.” Sandra smiled and nodded. “Veil?”

“That little gothic women’s top hat with the veil.”

“Awww, that’s adorable.” She smiled. “Nice taste. Are you going to throw a reception sort of party?”

“Nah,” Sid said. “Everyone knows. Turner announced it at work. Her boss has her paperwork. All her fellow profilers are somewhere in another state this week.”

“Mostly in Arizona but two single ones are in Minnesota for two different cases and there’s one in Florida,” she said. “Arizona is a bigger case with people smuggling.”

“Mexicans?” his mother asked.

“No. Teenagers for the cartel lords.”

“Eww.” She shook her head. “Poor children.”

“Mostly street kids and run aways but yes. So most of my coworkers are down there babbling like a multi-headed god. The few that have sense will be more quiet and give out information instead of theories.”

Sid snickered. “Some of you do lecture like teachers when you’re giving out info,” he agreed.

She nodded. “The ones who do the best give out quiet information and let them handle things. I feel sorry for the sheriff. I worked with him a few years back on a multiple homicide case so he’ll know what the good ones are like. He can compare my former team with Dethers on it.”

“Is that moron fired again?” Sid asked.

“No. He’s still in the LA office being ignored.” She smirked. “And the suit against the FBI is due in court next week. I don’t have to appear. It’s lawyers only right now.”

“Hopefully the judge laughs at the bureau and cackles about them rehiring the stalker.” He patted her hand. “Ma, need help?”

“No, dear.” She went to get more food and came back out. Meg went to help. Sandra as well.

Sid looked at his sister, saying a silent ‘thank you’. She smiled. “She seems nice but fairly strong. Better than Meg’s husband.”

“Where is the douche and the kids?”

“Park supposedly.” He grimaced. “He didn’t want to make Mom fuss over them again. Apparently Miranda learned your habits and mouth. Told him it was because he disappointed her grandmother horribly.”

“Probably,” Sid agreed dryly. “He does me.”

Sandra came out with a bowl of potatoes. “There.” Meg and his mom came out and they all sat down.

“Can you cook?” his mother asked. “Sid, cut the ham. Thinly this time.”

“I’m not a deli worker, Mom.” He got up to carve them. Sandra held the platter still, earning a grin. “That’ll help too.” He cut his mother off a piece and then the others, then his. He sat back down and passed the other things. Then his mother called a sudden call for Grace being said. Sandra nicely stayed quietly, he muttered. His sisters muttered. They dug in.

“I’m actually not a bad cook but I’m not great or chef quality,” Sandra said while cutting her ham. “I can cook, I do when I’m at home.”

“She’s a bit better than I am at it,” Sid told her. “Then again she spent years living in a motel because she was always on the road.”

“I got a kitchenette usually but that was usually a microwave and a hot plate for a kitchen.” She ate a bite and nodded. “Interesting glaze on the ham. Maple syrup and chili?”

She smiled. “It needed a touch of spices. I added some cinnamon too.”

“It’s great.” She smiled and ate another bite. A bit hot for her tastes but she wasn’t going to say anything. Sid grinned at her. She grinned back. “I’m driving home.”

“Sure, I can stare at you while you drive.” She blushed, shaking her head.

His mother stared at him then at her. “I taught him women should swat if he’s being that naughty.”

“I don’t want to turn into an abusive wife. He hasn’t earned that level of retribution yet. He’d only get that if he cheated on me or something. And then I might remember that my mother liked to smack cops on the head with shovels.” Sid cackled, having to sip some water before he choked.

“How long did your mother spend in the pokey for that?” Meg asked.

“No time. They were rather scared of my father. The officer was bothering Mom’s roses for something they knew wasn’t there.”

Sid’s other sister smiled at her. “You’re from Middleton.”

“I am.”

“Ah, you’re his little girl.”

“I am.” She smiled. “I’m pretty sure they would’ve approved of your brother. Neither one has come back to haunt us or anything.” She smiled.

“Peg, her parents made her a great profiler,” he said, catching his breath.

“I’m sure it did. Are you taking his name or keeping yours?”

“I’ll probably answer to both but I took his. It might ease some of the stress I had before with some of the higher ups even though I was using my mother’s maiden name.”

“I don’t know why they were scared of you,” Sid said. “I find you smart and sexy, really a great mind. That must’ve been it because they’re dumb as bricks.” She blushed again and pinched him on the leg. He smirked. “That’s what the commissioner said when he gave his statement to the press. That you scared him and it was like you could see and weigh his soul.”

“He’s got one?”

“I think that’s what he was worried about,” he agreed.

“Probably. Who replaced him?”

“The mayor appointed Chessner.”

“I don’t remember much being said about her other than she was the sort that you ran if she growled because she did bite.”

“She still does.” He ate another bite and she dug in again too. “Peg, how’s the girlfriend?”

“Shallow and pampered. Like usual.” She smirked. “I chose for easy.”

“Sometimes easy is nice. Your brother’s very easy to get along with. Even when he got pushy because they had him guarding me.”

“Why?” their mother asked.

“Because a guy she had put away for running some sort of sick cult and killing one of the cops arresting him broke out,” Sid told her.

“Is he still loose?”

“No, he did show up on that same day I met Meg. The old commissioner had some of us captured that he didn’t like and was going to kill us. Sid fortunately chased a rapist halfway across the city and found us. He handled most of that for us and then the cult member showed up to be humiliated. I had my backup knife in my hand when he rushed me so he stabbed himself on it.” She ate a bite.

“That was really nice of him,” Sid agreed. “Much less paperwork than shooting the thugs who were going to shoot you guys caused.”

“Generally, FBI shooting review paperwork is shorter anyway,” she teased with a smirk for him.

He kissed her. “No bragging or I’ll have to switch and get my badge there.”

“They’d drive you insane.”

“Probably, yeah. That’s why I’ve stayed local.” He ate a bite and grinned. She shook her head, eating another one.

“So, children?” his mother asked.

“Some decade,” he said.

She nodded. “I can agree with that time table.”

“It’s easier when you’re young enough to chase after them,” Meg said with a grin.

Sandra looked over at her. “It’s easier when they don’t take off and try to run into traffic at all.” Sid snickered, nodding. “Like I said, there’s that nice group in the Middle East that can help you get pregnant at sixty and later.” She ate another bite.

Sid nodded. “I can see it about then. I’ll be slower and want to stay home more often with the sprout.” She smiled at him. “You’ll be slower too, woman.”

“Not my fault I had to chase that guy last night. If he had fallen into the bear trap or one of the other passive security system devices in the garden I wouldn’t have had to chase the teenager down.”

“Teenager?” Peg asked.

“When she’s not there, they consider trying to break in a proof of courage test,” Sid said dryly. “I heard him and went down to make him piss himself with my service piece. She chased him down when he ran. I was naked so I couldn’t.”

She shrugged. “I had on something at least. He didn’t get more than a half mile, Sid.”

“Good point.”

His mother moaned, shaking her head. “Didn’t the locals there arrest him?”

“Yeah, we had to catch him to hand him over,” Sid said with an evil smirk. “By then I had even put on a bathrobe.”

“And by the time I had him back to be arrested in the driveway he was crying because he had tried to break into an FBI agent’s house. Plus I told them to please talk to the Football coach since it was most of his boys trying to prove their tiny, steroid shrunken dicks were still worthy of the cheerleaders’ mouths.” She looked at Sid. “When I was in high school, he was just starting and tried to convince me that the team would make me a real woman if I’d let them. It’d give them a great morale boost to change me into a quiet, normal girl.”

“Huh, stupid fucker,” he muttered, stuffing his mouth. She smiled. “I’ll try really hard not to punch him in the nose for that.”

“The english teacher he was molesting in her classroom and his office thought the same thing. Dad went to talk to her about that. She’s still presently up in the abbey.” He cackled, kissing her.

Meg shook her head. “More gooey than me and Dave were,” she told her sister.

“Which is why we knew we’d have to kill Dave sometime soon,” she quipped back.

“Sid!” his mother complained. He pulled back to grin at his mother. “Eat.”

“If you knock her up at the table or on the table, we get to name it,” Peg quipped.

“Dear, it’s basic biology that he can’t do it from a kiss,” Sandra said dryly. “If he can, I’d wonder where his mouth was and go find a shovel.” Both sisters cackled and their mother moaned.

“Hell, if I could do that *I’d* wonder,” Sid complained. He shook his head quickly. “Would you rescue me from the mad scientist that did that to me?”

“Of course. He’d be miserable and quite sorry.”

“Cool.” He grinned. “I’ll rescue you from the next one that wants you as a wife?”

“Gladly. They all have bad taste in what flimsy thing they think is appropriate wedding wear.” She shook her head.

“Where is that box anyway?”

“Attic.” She ate a bite of ham.

“Huh.” He ate some corn. “The last one took a deal yesterday.” She gave him an odd look. “Apparently Turner clued in his attorney so he got told you weren’t going to be his. He’s pouting the last time I heard.”

“Awww. Poor thing. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed twelve people though. What did his father say?”

“It was a pity his son wasn’t worthy. That he’d find him a better wife when they all got out and went back to weeding out the evil things in this world.”

“Hmm. Well, if we get more bodies that way we’ll know why,” she decided. “What was their final count?”

“Forty-three. He admitted to a few we hadn’t found yet.”

“Awww, that’s sweet.” She shrugged and dug in.

Meg shuddered. “I’m glad I’m a simple shop girl.”

“I’m still going to kill him for making you work,” Sid assured her.

“His job cut back on overtime and things,” she complained. “It made things easier.”

He stared at her. “Is the house that expensive?”

“No. The things he needs for work are.”

“He doesn’t have to wear designer suits. He’s a tech guy, not a stock broker.”

“He said they don’t respect him as much.” She stuffed her mouth. “And no killing my husband. I’d make a sucky widow who’d have to work a whole lot.”

Sandra looked at him. “He doesn’t have life insurance? That’s almost irresponsible! What if he gets into a car accident!”

“Not that much.”

“Uh-huh,” Sid said dryly. “Up that soon?”

“Fine, whatever.” She waved her fork.

“They say you’re supposed to be able to live on it for at least three years,” Peg told her. “Since my last girlfriend signed him up, I know you don’t have that much from that policy.” Meg stared at her. She stared back. “Up it.”

“We can’t afford that.”

“There was that online place that can give you a fast quote,” Sandra said. “They’re saying as little as fifteen dollars a month for an extra quarter of a million.”

“That might be nice.” She shrugged. “I’ll look into that later. Can we move onto happier topics?”

“Sure,” Sid agreed. “Are you knocked up again?” His sister punched him hard on the arm. He stared at her. She whined but nodded. “If that’s a girl and she goes into pageants I’ll kill you both. Those are creepy little girls who look like hookers.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She stuffed her mouth again.

“I’ve seen professional models with less makeup, though I always wondered why they had their hair styled like Southern waitresses,” Sandra said. “Like Flo from that show about the diner way back when,” she told Sid. Peg cackled, shaking her head and stuffing her mouth.

“You know, they do kinda have Southern Sorority whore hair,” he agreed. “Or maybe waitress hair, yeah. Definitely not trophy wife hair.”

“Aww, did you catch that case?” she teased.

“No, thankfully my deskmate got it and complained last night by text message.” He grinned. She smirked back. “I might’ve said something about bimbos who run in high heels and turn an ankle then look at the monster and scream. Apparently the guy mugging her decided she was one and put her out of everyone’s misery before she pushed out another worthless trust fund kid,” he told the others.

“Some of them can do good things. I know one at MIT who’s working on nanocomputers,” Sandra told him.

“Charming but most don’t.”

“No, that’s because their parents don’t make them.”

“True. If I could stay home all day and be treated like a prince I might.”

“You’d get bored and fat, dear. I’d have to find a shock collar and a treadmill to cure that.” He smirked at her. She smiled sweetly and he kissed her again.

“It’s nice that he’ll keep her in line,” Meg told her mother. Who nodded and stuffed her mouth. She kicked Sid under the table. “Quit checking for tonsils. Not even I get to do that.”

“That’s because you kissing him is like two dead fish,” Peg told her. “Very tepid and boring.”

“He’s not boring! He doesn’t want to embarrass Ma.”

“Some men are shy about PDA,” Sandra agreed. “In Asia, you don’t kiss in public. Even on the cheek. You don’t hold hands, nothing. Even at the wedding. In the Middle East either.”

“I’d hate that,” Peg admitted. “We enjoyed our time at the kiss-in last year to support the gay marriage bill.”

“I saw that covered on the news,” Sandra said with a smile. “A few looked like they were having a lot of fun.”

“We did. We picnicked, kissed, nibbled, and held hands. It was my anniversary present to her. She loved it and bragged to all her little femme friends I wan to shiv.”

Sid snickered. “They nagging her that you don’t make her dress up pretty anymore?”

“Yes! Damn bitches.”

“Peg!” her mother complained.

“They are!”

“So?”

“Fine. Sorry, Mom. Common vernacular.” Sid smirked at her. “My girl is happy until they nag her about things.”

“I think that’s what girlfriends are supposed to do,” Sandra told her. “To one-up you on those scales so you want to challenge them.” She ate a bite of vegetables.

“Maybe. It’s a damn pain in the ass.”

Her mother scowled. “Maybe if you dated someone more decent, dear.”

“Mom, say one more word about my girlfriends and I’ll never come back again,” she said firmly. “I don’t care if you don’t like me being with a girl. I really don’t.”

“I remember the one guy you tried to date and how horrible it was,” Sid told her calmly. “Thank God you never did that again.” Peg smiled at him.

“Yeah, talk about douches,” Meg agreed, sticking food in her mouth before she went on.

“He wasn’t bad on his own,” Peg defended.

“I meant you. You turned into one and it was horrible. I nearly drowned you.”

Peg grinned. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. Take your girl for some alone time without her girlfriends. They can only sigh and then tell their mates about it because they’re jealous.”

“My girl has expensive tastes.”

“There’s a beautiful hotel in New York, caters to diplomats,” Sandra said. “It’s run by some Saudi Prince or someone. Well decorated, lovely decor. And there’s a ton of things to do in New York cheaply, including museums and browsing at the stores.”

“She might like that,” she admitted. “I’ll have to look at those. This is the off-season so even a five star would be cheaper.”

“Online travel booking sites might have them even cheaper,” Sid said.

“Mine was one-twenty and I just showed up,” Sandra told her.

“Hmm. That’s not a bad thing, no.” She smiled. “And a long weekend would be nice.” She nodded, digging in.

“Vegas does the same stuff,” Meg pointed out.

“Their airport is a *mess* at times,” Sandra assured her with a smile. “There’s a lot of traffic but some of the hotels you can check in from the terminal and just travel in without worries. They’ll even bring your bags.”

“Wow,” Peg said. “She might like that too. Cheap flights…. Some hotels are advertising fifty a night for the off-season.”

“Shows you should book in advance,” Sandra warned. “The good ones are all taken long before their showing. But things like the Round Table events at Camelot are nice and fairly inexpensive. The more hype and talked about the more expensive it is.”

“So book her one special one and a few other things, and plan it around that booking,” Peg decided, nodding. “That’s a great idea.”

“They also have coupon booklets for things like admission to the indoor theme park,” Sandra said. “Ask at the desks and they’ll give you those and some to restaurants and things. It’s only really expensive if you gamble.”

“Which we probably wouldn’t do anyway. Huh.” She nodded and ate another bite. “I can do that,” she said once she swallowed. “She’s got a few shows she’d love to see. Book one and a weekend around it. We can do that.” She finished up and left, going to give her girlfriend those options.

“I could use some of that myself,” Meg sighed.

“Yours just needs a boot up his ass,” Sid told her.

She smiled. “I have some beautiful ones if he does. Quit nagging.”

“Fine.” She finished up and left. He looked at his mother. Who was glaring at him. “What?”

“I would rather….”

“Peg’s life is hers, Mother. Leave her alone. She can still give you grandchildren. That’s why they make sperm banks.”

“They can do a warm transfer from you into her girlfriend so it’s still a true grandchild,” Sandra told him, looking at him. “That I wouldn’t mind.”

“If she asks, I might not mind that,” he agreed. “I’d want them to be real steady first. She’s only been with this girlfriend for a little over a year. Unfortunately my mother’s a bit weird at times.” He glared at her. She huffed but stuffed her mouth.

“I have never had a problem with who anyone wants to love as long as it’s consensual and a healthy relationship,” Sandra told her.

Sid smiled. “Good. Hate to make you change your mind.”

“By what? Making me watch girly movies?” she taunted back with an evil smirk.

“Ooooh, no, that’d punish me.” He took a quick kiss. “Finish up and I’ll help you weed the garden?”

“If you want to get all dirty helping me weed, I wouldn’t mind.” She finished up and kissed his mother on the cheek. “It was nice to meet you. He’s said a lot about you, Mrs. Steinway.” She took his hand and walked out with him.

She sighed, looking around her destroyed dining room table. “At least they all ate and he’s *finally* married, even if she is tougher than he thinks. Maybe I can talk her into grandchildren sometime soon to soften her up.” She finished her dinner and put up the leftovers. They had eaten a lot of everything.

to chapter 9

Sandra met up with Sid that night. “It’s official. He suspended me for my family. Which means I get to add new evidence and statements to the lawsuit. My lawyer is very pleased with me.”

“Good. Well, not good but good that it’ll be solved soon?”

“I hope so. My retirement account is pretty decent but not that great.” She followed him upstairs. “But I did order dinner.”

“Bless you.” He let her into his apartment and took a kiss. “I need food since I only got to eat thanks to my sister showing up.”

“Interrogation?”

“Light one.” He put the bag on the table and kissed her again. She moaned, leaning into him to give it back. She realized she wanted to touch him and hesitantly put her hands on his sides. He pulled up his shirt and let her feel all she wanted. She moaned and whimpered when he pulled back. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assured her, kissing her again.

She undid his tie and shirt by feel, getting down to his chest. No undershirt today. That gave her a lot of warm, soft skin to explore. He shrugged off his shirt and threw his tie at the sink then sat in the chair at the table so she could sit in his lap. She gave him a nervous chuckle but he kissed her again and it was good. Very good. He was rubbing her stomach and back, not daring to go up to her breasts yet, but she took off her shirt and let him stroke over her. She whimpered and leaned closer, kissing him again. It was like she was inhaling his soul for him. He felt good, not like his easy girls of the past, but really good. She straddled his lap instead of sitting across it.

“We should move this,” he panted, pulling back to look at her. “Before I throw you on that table and smash dinner into your back while I make you squeal.”

She blushed. “I don’t usually squeal.”

“That gives me one hell of a challenge then,” he said, getting up and carrying her to the bed. He let her down gently and then pushed off his pants and socks. She stared. He smirked. “I’m not pretty but I’m not bad.”

“Very not bad.” He laid down next to her, kissing her again. She wiggled. “Help me out of these pants, they’re tight.” He laughed but undid them and tossed them on the floor, then helped her out of her socks. He stroked one hand up her leg on his way back to another kiss, leaving his hand close to her breast but not on it. She wiggled and shifted so he undid the bra and tossed it down too. She whimpered but he was now free to tease her all he wanted. Making her squeal would be quite an accomplishment since she hadn’t had a guy get even this far before.

“Sid,” she moaned. “Please?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” He licked over a nipple, making her go rigid. He smiled. “Feeling an urge to squeal?”

“Maybe,” she panted. He went back to his teasing. He was staying out of her panties, which were a bit conservative to be sexy but they fit her well. She was wiggling again so he teased the band. “That…” He kissed her and she wiggled out of her panties on her own. Clearly she wanted this. Which was good that they both wanted it. He stroked her thigh up to her pubic mound and she nearly went limp under him. He kissed her again, concentrating on what he was doing. He had no idea if she had played by herself or anything else in the past. “Sid, c’mon,” she panted.

“You sound like my teenage girlfriend,” he teased with a grin. “I’m getting to the great stuff via the good stuff.” He stroked her with a thumb, making her flinch but then push back against his hand.

“I want to squeal like a normal girl.”

He kissed her. “You’ll do more than squeal, sweetheart.” She moaned at that name so he kissed her again. Yeah, squealing was coming soon. His thumb was all she needed, for now.

***

Sid woke up warmer than usual and blinked at the woman staring at him. He kissed her. “Morning.”

“Morning.” She put her head on his shoulder, letting him cuddle her. “I’m… I don’t want things to be different.”

He kissed her on the top of the head. “I’m not setting any rules, Sandra.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. For all I care we can date for a while longer. Last night was not all I wanted. I have a few people I could call if that’s all I wanted.”

She pinched his nipple, earning a hiss. “Don’t brag about your black book. For some reason I’m feeling jealous.”

“That’s a wonderful sign,” he teased, stroking down her arm. She looked up at him. “Up to you.”

“I think I could easily see us going further,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “We could. We could do it today for all I care.”

She blinked a few times. “Today?”

“Yup. Unless you need to be a princess like my sister?”

“I’ve never understood that,” she admitted. She shifted and looked at the clock. “Work,” she sighed.

“It’s my day off, San.”

She smiled. “I have to call off.”

“He suspended you.”

“Good point.”

“Call Turner in case anyone sends you anything.”

She found her pants and her phone in them, dialing him and talking quietly. Sid grinned, watching her twirl her hair while she talked. She had flipped around in the bed so her feet were up by his shoulder. It gave him a great view. He shifted to look at it better, then he leaned over to lick her. She squeaked and hung up. She looked back at him. “I liked squealing.”

“I loved you squealing.” He pulled her back against him and went back to tasting her.

“Shouldn’t I…” She moved closer to him.

“Freeze. You’re right where I want you.” He teased her some more until she gave up any ideas beyond letting him make her get loud again. And then he had his wicked way with her. Which required a nap. Even a cuddle, which he gave like a pro. She curled up on his chest and snored at him. It was cute, which was how he knew he had it so bad.

***

Sandra woke up alone, looking around. Sid was at the table looking at the mail while he ate the cold chinese from last night. She got up and put on his shirt, which all those girly magazines her coworkers read said guys liked, and padded out there. He stared, mouth slightly open with the current bite half-chewed. “Morning.”

“Morning.” He swallowed and put down his fork, pulling her into his lap. “Sleep good?” he teased.

“Very good.” She took a kiss and his fork to eat from. “Did you have any plans today?”

“Not yet.” He stared at her. “I’m all for a day off and playing however you want to.” He took his fork to eat a bite and then feed her. “All I have planned is to pay the electric bill.”

She kissed him. “Would you consider splitting time between the house and here?”

“The only problem I’d have is nights I’m on call for new cases I’d have to be local. Within thirty minutes of the station.”

“We can keep the rent on this place.” He grinned. “Not like I’m required to be at home.”

“Not right now,” he agreed, stroking her back. “We can do whatever you want to do.”

She leaned in and stared at his eyes then kissed him. “Were you serious earlier?” He nodded, feeding them each another bite. “I mean about the whole going further thing?”

“Yup.”

She relaxed against him and nodded. “We should think about that for sometime soon?”

“For all I care, there’s a Justice of the Peace in town,” he said quietly. She looked at him. “Unless you want my mother to wail over decorations and your dress? ‘Cause I’m not looking forward to that part. She absolutely made herself a pain for my sister.”

“I don’t have anyone I’d want to invite anyway,” she admitted, blinking a few times. “Though I have *nothing* I can wear.”

“I know some people who’ve done nudist weddings,” he teased, “but they usually turned into an orgy.”

“Not my thing, no.”

He stroked her thigh under his shirt. “We can find you something pretty.” She blushed. “And tasteful.” She smiled. He kissed her again. “But if you stay in my shirt much longer, you’ll need another nap and so will I, dear. Because that’s just giving me ideas.” She shivered. “Yes, wicked ones,” he assured her. “Like earlier and even more wicked.”

“I don’t think you could be more wicked, Sid.” She kissed him and got up, going to the bedroom. She came out dressed. He paid the electric bill and put a stamp on it before going to get himself dressed. Even dressed up. She stared at his chest, then adjusted his tie. “I like you in that.”

“It’s my favorite. I get a lot of attention in it too.”

She pinched his nipple, earning a hiss and a kiss. “I’m still feeling jealous for some reason.”

“Not like they get me tonight.”

She smiled and took him down to her car. He drove her to the same shop, but his sister wasn’t working today. He knew that. He had called earlier to see. Because his sister would squeal, nag, and whine. Which he didn’t want. It might scare Sandra off. He went to wait in the car. She looked at the sales girl. “I need a dress.”

“Any particular style or for what occasion?”

“White? Pretty?”

She looked at her. “I have just the thing, dear.” She walked her to that rack. “I remember you from the other night. Size eight, right?” She nodded. She checked. “We have it in a ten but it might not be too too big on you.” She let her try it on, nodding. “That looks nice. A bit flowy but pretty.” She got something else and let her see it. “That’s a bit more traditional.”

Sandra tried that one on and nodded. “I like this one.” She got what things she needed, like a new pair of shoes and a hat with a slight veil. And some new stockings. They went to City Hall. They signed in and got the license.

The woman doing it smiled. “The Justice is free right now, and there’s a nice bathroom right before his office.” She winked at Sid. “She’s a pretty young woman, Detective.”

He grinned. “Yes she is and she’s all mine.” He smirked at Sandra, who was laughing. “C’mon.” They walked that way and she went to change. Sid knocked on the Judge’s door. “Got ten?” he asked.

“I usually do,” he quipped. “Are you alone?” He pointed at the bathroom. “Not the first.” He smiled when she came to the door. The white dress was about ankle length and had an embroidered corset done with silver threads over a gauzy dress. The white stockings, shoes, and the cute little goth looking hat were adorable on her. Sid beamed. “I take it this is your girlfriend?”

“It is.” He handed over the license and took her hand, pulling her closer. “That is pretty.” She beamed. “And I love the hat.” He kissed her. “We’ll talk about rings later.”

“I have my mother’s.”

“If that’s the one you want, then I’ll pop for the wedding bands.”

She smiled at him. “We’ll talk.” He nodded and they looked at the judge.

He stared at her stomach then at him. “Is it a wedding in haste?”

“No, sir. My mother is going to nag and interfere if we don’t do before she finds out.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I like that answer better than most I see.” He did the short ceremony, which made her happy. She squealed and kissed him. He smiled, taking a second one. The judge signed the papers. “Drop them off and go celebrate, kids.” They smiled.

Sid and she dropped it off then she went back for the bag with her clothes. He drove her out to her place. It was only right to take her home. When the drive was over with, he walked around and helped her out, picking her up to carry her inside. She wiggled. “I’m too heavy.”

“You’re not heavy.” He kissed her as she slid down his body. “You haven’t been heavy.” He turned back on the security system and rearmd the pit since the light above the switch was on. “Think we should call someone?”

She looked over his shoulder at it. “Probably.” She looked at him. “Am I taking your name?”

“I’d be thrilled but I know it’s a lot of work for you to fill out the change paperwork on your licenses and things.”

She considered it then shrugged. “I like yours better.” She called the local guys. “Hi, this is Sandra Steinway. They’re out here in the pit again. I have no idea if they’re out back too.” She checked the readout. “One tried but got tangled in the barbed wire back there I think. Thank you.” She hung up. “She sounded very confused.”

He kissed her. “They’re just stunned that you finally found someone special enough.” She laughed and poked him, getting a tickle back. She swatted him but kissed him, opening the door when she heard the heavy police cruiser. “Hi, guys.”

The sheriff stared at her. “I hope you two are very happy, Detective and Sandra.” She beamed. “The other’s where?”

“Barbed wire beyond the hedge. Watch out for the traps.”

“I know.” He walked that way, carefully walking around the bear traps. The person in the barbed wire wasn’t happy and was barely conscious. “When did you get tangled,” he complained. He put on heavy gloves to help him out of it and walked him off. Then he and the deputy he called got the two out of the pit. “How long have you been down there?”

“Last night,” one of them complained.

“Clearly she was busy,” the sheriff said dryly. His deputy looked at him. “Pretty white dress.” His deputy grinned. “That detective guy? Him.” That got an even bigger smile. They hauled the people off. Her security system had livened up the local judicial process a lot. They’d never had so many higher ups complaining that their people had been trapped for illegal activities before. These ones got put in a holding cell with a hand-scrawled note on a wall telling them to not even bother calling their FBI supervisors if they got arrested. They were automatically fired when they found out about the author’s arrest for what he had been told to do.

The cops all loved that one. It made all the uppity agents moan and complain about other things than that one profiler being mean.

***

Sid called in the next morning. “Turner, I’m busy, I’m not coming in.” He listened to the ‘I knew you’d be doing this and you have court tomorrow’. “Tell the DA to blow me, I’m on my honeymoon and my mother’s already booked tomorrow.” He hung up and snuggled in again, getting yawned at. He took advantage of it to kiss her.

She smiled. “Did Turner nag?”

“He thinks I have court tomorrow but I know he took a plea already so I’m free for Mom’s nagging.” He cuddled her. She snuggled in and teased him. She had liked learning how to tease him and that he had a few ticklish spots. So they had all day to teach her even more things to play with on him and he could figure out that small dead spot on her side to see if he could get her to react to anything there.

***

Turner hung up, looking at his phone. “Guys, Steinway said to tell anyone who bugs him that he’s on his honeymoon for the next three days.” Everyone in the squad room went silent. Turner got up and went to his door, smirking at them. “That includes the DA.”

“That case took a plea last week so he was free,” his deskmate said. “He really married her?”

“Apparently. He said his mother’s nagging tomorrow.”

“I think that’s a given,” another detective quipped. “What do you get a woman like her?”

“I have no clue,” Turner admitted. “Sid suggested gardening supplies since she’s working on her mother’s garden.” They smiled at him. “So maybe something to Home Depot I guess.” He shrugged. “It was his cellphone.”

“We’ll call later, when he’s probably not going to be busy,” Sid’s deskmate said. “After all, they gotta eat sometime.” The others all snorted. “I take it they’re not traveling?”

“Not at the moment. He said today and tomorrow, I gave him the next day since the Commissioner is trying to suspend him.” They all nodded they had heard. “So, send cards or whatever, guys.” He went back to figure out the present thing himself. “Why couldn’t he wait until payday?” he complained quietly. “Then we could afford wedding presents.” He looked up an hour later when an irrate Under-Director of the FBI stomped into his office. “I got told she was suspended.”

“I got told the same thing and that she reminded the director that had been caught with his hand in the mafia till.” He stared at him. “Where are they?”

“Her place probably. It was too quiet for his. Why?”

“I got the strangest set of papers emailed to me.”

“Apparently they’ve recently married. Steinway called off for his honeymoon.”

“I see.” He considered it. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her. They want her to drop the suit.”

“I doubt it because then things would keep happening. By the way,” he said with a smile. “You might want to look up Steinway’s past. A lot of people don’t really call the guys from the old Sixth Precinct nice.”

“Shit,” Malone muttered, stomping off again. He looked that up in the local office before going out there. “Anything I need to know, Buck?”

“No, Sir. There were three agents arrested in her non-electrical security system but per orders I let the locals up there handle it,” he said. “Was there something I missed?”

“She got married.” He handed over the forms. “File those for her.” He nodded, looking them over and filing them in the system for her. “Who was Steinway and what was the Sixth Precinct?”

Buck winced. “The Sixth? That was… Well, hell,” he muttered, letting him see the old files on that. “Steinway seemed too nice to be one of them.”

“Apparently not,” he said dryly. “Arrest reports… Oh, he was that sort of officer. I didn’t think she’d go for someone that tough.” He considered it then sighed and shook his head. “If he does it for her, I’m happy. She deserves to be happy.” He looked up Steinway in their system and found some of his father’s cases and the son’s cases. The son was a hard-headed idiot apparently whenever an agent came to overrule him. Which he liked about the guy. She probably did too. He came across as a nicer version of Dirty Harry in some ways. In others he was the really tough priest that whipped gang kids into going straight. “Well, he’s protective,” he decided. He got out of all the files. “I’m going to talk to her about that lawsuit.”

“She told him she’s not ending it and if he kept screwing with her she was going to make it worse. She had more things she could add to it.”

Malone nodded. “Probably.” He left, going to drive up there. It was a pretty day for a drive. It calmed his nerves. Even seeing her opening the door in what had to be his t-shirt and her jogging shorts didn’t break his nerves. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Am I unsuspsended?”

“No. He wanted me to talk to you about it though.”

“Sure, I’ll add those other charges too.” She smiled. Sid walked up behind her. “Want some tea, Under-Director Malone?”

“No, thank you, Sandra.” He stared at her. “I filed that paperwork with the local office for you.” She smiled. “He’s going to try to fire you.”

“Which is another charge. Did my lawyer go on GMA today? I know he was scheduled to.”

Malone called his secretary to see. She was nearly crying at it. The director was her lover. “Yes.” He hung up. “She said he’s really not pleased.”

“Then perhaps she should quit hiding under his desk.” She gave him a pointed look. “I hate politics and if he tries something else I’m going to retaliate.” She smiled. “I’m sure I can get wicked ideas now. He’s been teaching me all sorts of them since we got together.”

“I’m sure he is,” he said dryly. “Any other agents?”

She checked the alarm system. “Someone tried to dig up my mother.” They went back there and found the gas canister had done its job very well. “Aww, that’s so nice of him.” She called the locals. “Hi, it’s Sandra. We have one a gas canister got. He was trying to dig up Mother for some reason.” She looked around. “Quite possibly or he tried to run through the hedge for some reason.” She went to look. “Found a rabid looking dog. Please.” She hung up and hurried back. “I don’t want near that. I hear rabies shots hurt.”

“Yes they do,” Malone agreed. He searched and found the guy’s ID, reading it. “Hmm. Secret Service.” He kicked him until the guy groaned. “FBI, idiot. Wake the hell up,” he ordered. The man tried to. “Why are you here?”

“His treasure is here,” he mumbled.

“Yes, but that’s my mother’s grave,” she told him, making him whimper and give her a horrified look. “Seriously. We even got permission to do it. Then he got sprinkled on top of it. You can’t dig up my mother without a warrant.” He went limp. “And I doubt you have one. So get off my property.” He tried to move. She heard footsteps. “Back here.”

“Of course they are,” a male voice said, coming around the house with a gun. “This is a nice grouping and a victim too. How generous of you.”

She stared at him. “You fucking idiot.” She pulled Malone’s gun and shot him before he realized what she was doing. “Really stupid.” She handed back the gun and called again. “You might need an ambulance for two. Some yahoo walked around the house with a shotgun. Thank you.” She hung up. “They’ll be right out.”

Sid looked. “Not dead. Pity.” She looked up at him. He shrugged. “They can’t come back if they’re dead.”

“He can die later, after he answers questions,” she pointed out. “Because I don’t know him.”

Malone walked over to search him, nodding at what he found. “He’s from the Miami office.” He put that into his pocket and smiled at the officers. “Under-Director Malone, FBI.” He got out of their way. “Sandra, would you think about moving?”

“I couldn’t sell the house even if I wanted to,” she pointed out. “Plus I’d have to move Mom somewhere.”

“That’s a good point,” the sheriff agreed. “Was he trying to dig her up?”

“He said Dad hid his treasure there,” she said dryly.

“Yes, he called your mother that many times,” he agreed. “Are all agents this stupid?” he asked Malone.

“No. Though he’s Secret Service so I’m hoping my director ran out of our moron patrol.” The sheriff laughed and helped the paramedics pick his limp body up.

“Rabid dog,” she said with a point. He went to shoot it and then bag it in a trash bag. They weren’t going to take any chances with that beast. She sighed, looking at Sid, who gave her a hug. “Under-Director Malone, would you like some tea?”

He smiled at her. “It’s good you let him protect you. I like that.” He walked off, following the ambulance. The officers even showed him the note written by one on a wall, making him laugh and add an official part to it. Then he drove back to the city to conference in the other Directors. They had to know their people were being used.

Sid looked at her. “Did you need to weed today?”

“I can weed tomorrow to calm my nerves down before we go see your Mom.” He grinned and carried her inside. “I’m still too heavy to be carried, Sid.”

“Shut up, Sandra. You’re not heavy. You won’t be heavy until we decide you want kids.” He kicked the door shut.

to chapter 8

Sid woke up warm, comfortable, and hearing someone snore. He looked at the bed, alone. But someone had nicely tucked him in under his quilt. He sat up, looking toward the couch. She was curled up with one thigh slightly hiked up on the back. She was hugging her pillow and nearly buried by the blanket but her back was mostly uncovered. Her shirt was riding up and he got up to sneak out there. He stared at her. His instincts were telling him to kneel down and kiss her booboos. He knew she’d wake up startled and then beat him to death if he did it so he resisted.

He started the coffee he had prepared last night and snuck back to the bathroom to shower and change. He looked up from scrubbing his chest when the door opened and she wandered in to use the toilet. He blinked a few times and shrugged it off but finished up. Clearly she was mostly asleep. Though it was suspiciously quiet. “If you’re going to stab me like in that movie, wait until I’ve had coffee,” he quipped.

She squeaked. “Morning.”

“Morning, Sandra.”

“Um…” She finished up, flushed, and then went back out to the living room to quickly change.

He grinned, finishing up. He came out and put on the clothes he had brought in with him, coming out without his tie or jacket. “All yours.” She blushed, not looking at him. He tipped her chin up and kissed him. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she said, taking another one. He moaned and she felt empowered. She moved that fraction of an inch closer and took another kiss. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling but it was clearly nice.

He gently pushed her back. “If we keep doing that, we’ll have to do the paperwork next week.”

She smiled. “Good point. Dinner later?”

“I’ll order. We’ll be exhausted after all day of being nagged, yelled at, and the paperwork.”

“True.” She took another kiss and went to shower.

He worked on breakfast. She came out looking professional and had her hair pulled back. “Go pick me out a tie?”

She nodded, pulling that out for him and then came back out to help put him into it. He grinned. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” They sat down to eat the simple bacon and eggs, with toast, and then to work. Since they both had their cars there they headed to their offices into ambushes of butt kissing higher ups who wanted to yell. Sid watched the guys yelling at him. “Sure, next time I won’t chase the rapist, accidentally discover some of our people and an agent being held hostage, and then save them. Not a problem,” he said dryly, staring at them. “Any other demands? Because ya know, I haven’t had my prostate check this year yet.” They stomped off in a huff. He waved with a grin. “Have a better day, people.” He looked at Turner. “You couldn’t text me?”

“No, they wouldn’t let me have the minute to do it,” he admitted. He stared at him. “Are you good?”

“I try really hard,” he quipped, going to his stack of paperwork. He sighed when he saw it. This was going to take all month instead of all day.

***

Sandra walked into her own ambush of Malone and the local chief. “I know I have paperwork to do.”

“The director hates you,” Malone said.

“Then perhaps he shouldn’t have hired the guy that the judge said was fired.” She smiled. “I can easily transfer my retirement account out of the bureau and up the amount I’m suing for.”

“Then he’d probably fire you,” he admitted.

“Probably.” She smiled. “Which would add unlawful termination to the stalking, the harassment, the mental anguish that all this has put me through, and all the other things I *could* be claiming.”

“I’ve pointed that out. Including that the prior case that won you a nice settlement.”

“Which I reinvested.” She blinked her big eyes at him. “Right now…. Well, the house could use a new roof and I could be a freelance profiler for any department. Which would mean a lot better paycheck probably. I’d have a lot of fun redecorating what my mother did to the house too. It’s not like he’s going to ruin me professionally.”

“No, probably not,” Malone admitted. “You know, I never knew you were the vindictive type.”

She smiled. “My mother said when you need to be vindictive, to be as bad as you can be so they don’t do it a second time. Clearly I failed the first. Now I’ll plumb the depths of mean that I learned from the other kids. Maybe even the depths I learned from the frat boys in college.”

“You’re going to embarrass the agency,” Malone said dryly.

“Yup.” She smiled. “Why?”

“I’ll let him know.”

“And tell him if he wants those guys that got caught by the rest of the security system last night, to go ahead and save their lives.” She pulled out her phone and held up the notification message.

Malone sighed. “I had no idea.”

“Clearly neither did they. The one that got into the house is probably really in pain.”

“Dirt.” He called the local cops up there to meet him there in an hour to gather victims as he walked out.

She smiled at the bureau chief. “So, paperwork?”

“Where were you yesterday?”

“Kidnaped and trapped in a shipping container with Turner and a few others that the Commissioner hated enough to get dirty cops to come shoot.”

“Really?” She nodded, turning on his tv to show the news story going on. He watched and texted that to Malone, who sent back ‘it figures’. He showed her and she smiled, going to do the paperwork and call her investment people. She was done by lunchtime since she had only stabbed the guy. So after lunch she got to be pounced by the Director of the FBI. Who she loathed. She looked up from her present cases when someone outside her office gasped. “I didn’t know they appointed the only profiler ever caught taking mafia money as the head of the FBI.”

“That’s not helping you,” he sneered.

She smiled. “It is in the official report.” She leaned her arms on the desk, staring at him. “You’re not going to get me to retire. At all. You can’t force me to. You can’t find a reason to fire me either. Because that’ll add unlawful termination to the suit against you and the FBI.”

“What?” he demanded.

“You had the person who’s been terrorizing me for years rehired on purpose. Even after two judges told you to stop him.” She smiled slightly. “I’ve already sent a nice statement to the press. My lawyer knows to go on with the suit even if I’m killed.” He backed up. “So I don’t really care what your opinion on the matter is. You’ve already been proven a dirty agent. That will be coming out. He has that whole file. Plus the other files we’ve made over the years. Including all the arrests Dethers has had stalking me.”

“You can’t do that. They’re classified,” he said smugly.

“That’s funny, the Secret Service said they’re not. I had him go to an outside source since I turned down them guarding me a few years back.” He gaped. She stared at him. “I’m not a simple little girl you can intimidate. I also haven’t become anything like my parents, no matter how often you try to push me that way. I haven’t even killed when I fired in the line of duty.” She smiled slightly again. “Though I’m tempted to change that in your case. Also, all those agents arrested this morning, it’s already on the news. I alerted the nice news station up there about what had happened and how they broke into my place last night. Thankfully I was in town after the FBI dinner and certificate thing.”

“I heard you had an accident,” he sneered.

“No, the new scrapes from being kidnaped earlier in the day broke open.” She stood up and undid the back of her shirt to show him then turned and sat again. “I also spoke to the manager of the hotel and paid to have that chair cleaned for that problem.” She smiled again. “There is nothing you can do to get me to quit. I’m not that sort of woman.”

“I’ve heard what sort you are,” he sneered.

“Hmm, still a virgin?” He stepped back, giving her a horrified look. “It is rather hard to date since I’m never in the same city for more than two weeks,” she said dryly. “It hampered things for years. Thank you for letting me settle down for a bit and find a nice man to date.”

The bureau chief leaned in. “Malone said that sending the press was mean.”

“Yay.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to let that go without notice. You screw with me and I screw back,” she said sweetly with a smile. “Because I’ve had about enough. If I reach that point of ‘had enough’ there’s going to be some blood shed when I have to start defending myself literally. And then I’d go cry on someone’s shoulder. Perhaps even in the press.” He stomped off. “You made your own bed, lie in it,” she called. “Next time, don’t screw with me.” She looked at the local boss. “So,” she said with a smile. “Paperwork?” She handed over the stack.

He took it. “It’s not wise to piss people like him off.”

“I don’t play politics and I had no hope of going to a higher office anyway.”

“Good point.” He walked off to cover his own butt. She wasn’t one of his guys. He could do that.

She got back to her email, sending an update to her attorney. And one to Sid, with a joke she had found online to cheer him up. He probably needed the cheering up by now.

***

Sid looked up as a bag hit his desk. He smiled at the source. “Thanks, Meg.”

“Welcome. So…. We should have lunch?” He pointed at the stack of paperwork. “Guys, I’m taking my brother to give him the big boy talk.” They all smiled and waved. “Good. See.” She walked him and his lunch off to the park up the street. “So, Sandra seemed a bit squeaky clean for you,” she stared once he had taken a bite of the sandwich.

“She is but she’s really nice. I think Mom’s going to be strange about it but she’s a great lady.” He ate another bite and sipped the soda she had brought him. “She’s sweet and an agent so she won’t freak at my job. She gets me in a lot of ways. I understand her and I don’t see her as the scary profiler sort.” He ate another bite.

“I looked her up last night online. We know about her family?”

“Yeah. Been up a few times, stayed over while I was guarding her.”

“Her parents?”

“Both dead. She’s real attentive to her mom’s garden.” He finished the sandwich and dug into the ho-hos she had brought him. “She’s a nice lady, Meg. A very nice lady. Even with all that in her family history she’s a great lady. A lot of people can’t see past that, which is why she’s suing the FBI again.” He finished his dessert and soda, staring at his younger sister.

She stared back. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I have better taste than you do.”

“You can’t tell me Candy whats-her-name was better taste,” she said sarcastically.

“No, she was just great in bed. She wasn’t meant for a long-term thing.”

“And Sandra is?”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

She stared at him. “Mom’s going to freak that she didn’t get to meet her yet.”

“Ma can freak. She’d scare her off.”

“Possibly. Does she want kids?”

“I never asked.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

“I’m not sure if I want kids.”

“Fine.” She stared at him. “If she ever hurts you, we girls are going to kill her and chop her up like her father would’ve.”

“He wasn’t that sort.”

“Whatever.”

“Thanks.” He grinned. “She used to be local PD too.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yup, but I have better taste than your dirtbag.”

She snorted. “Whatever.” She walked off.

“Thanks for lunch, Meg.”

“Welcome, butthead.”

He threw out his trash and got a lemonade on the way back to his office. He had no idea why he wanted one but he did. Must be her influence. When he got back to his desk he checked his email, bursting out laughing at the joke and her report on what had happened.

Turner looked up from his desk, smiling a little bit. Steinway had it so bad. It was cute to see his resident badass in love. He was going to go goofy, overprotective, and start taking vacation days soon. He checked to see how many he had saved up. Just in case it got too bad. And he looked online to figure out what to get them for a wedding present. Sandra never celebrated any birthdays or anniversaries. Maybe bookshelves? A large certificate to the book store? Maybe since she liked to cook for him a nice one to a gourmet store?

Sid leaned back to look in there then brought in what he had completed. “Gardening supplies.”

“Nothing for you?” Turner joked.

“I think I’ll have a good one.” He walked back out. “Let me get back to my doom out here.”

“Please do.” He looked and separated them out again. He had only done half the job for the DA. Better Sid than him though. His days of heavy paperwork were thankfully over.

To chapter 7

Sid got into the car when she pulled up beside him, smiling at her. “Got the bad guy.”

“Congrats. I think the rapist is going to take a trap.” He patted her on the knee. “Dinner?”

“Sure.” They drove off to a restaurant. “Problems?”

“My boss called up threatening to fire me and called me a traitor.”

“I take it he heard you’re suing them?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I’m exhausted.”

“Let me drive us to your place. I’ll make a simple dinner and you can relax,” he offered quietly. She pulled over and got out, letting him shift over. She got back in and let him drive off. “Need help with that case?” he asked quietly.

“No. I’ll do okay with it. This one’s just a freak.” He nodded, turning on the radio quietly. She smiled at the classical station. She rested her head against the window, drifting off slowly.

He looked over at the first snore, shaking his head but smiling. It was fine. It was actually comforting. It was a nice drive and he didn’t hurry. She clearly needed the rest. When they got there, he parked and shut off the engine. She was so tired she didn’t wake up so he unlocked the door and got out, walking over carefully to open the door, using a hand to make sure she didn’t move too far. It was awkward but he got her out of the car and up to her room. He laid her down carefully and took off her shoes, then closed the door as he went to lock up the car. He found a local officer waiting. “She fell asleep on the drive back.”

“We got warned that there’s another idiot after her, Detective?”

“Yeah, a cult leader she stopped out in San Diego escaped. He was in Texas, moving this way, the last we knew.”

“Okay. So you’re her bodyguard?”

“Yeah. I’m on guard detail. We’re friends.” He grinned.

“That’s fine, Detective. It’s good for her to have friends.” He grinned back. “Can I get the idiot under her doormat?”

Sid went to look, flipping the switch she had used to keep the flap open. “Hi, how’re you?” he asked, holding up his badge. “Aren’t you stupid?”

“I only wanted to talk to her!” he complained.

“I don’t care.” He helped the officer pull him up. He patted him down once he was handcuffed, looking at the wallet he found. “Reporter.”

“Leeches,” the local officer sneered. “Thanks, Detective.”

“Welcome.” He made sure the cars were sealed up and then went inside to make something light in case she got up. He heard her moan and paused but then she went back to sleeping. It was a pretty simple dinner and he checked the house, calling the local guys again to get the woman in the hedge out back. Another reporter. He got the chance to ask her about why they were bothering her. He got to inform them that her father was dead so it wasn’t him who had killed the serial killer on trial in Chicago. They were amused when he told them why. They’d give them a nice statement about how her father had done things and died years earlier. Sid went inside to find her in the kitchen, looking sleepy. “Micorwave.”

She looked and smiled. “Thank you.” She settled down at the table with a fork. He sat down with his too. “Sorry about drifting off that way.”

“You clearly needed it,” he told her. “We’ve all had days like that.” He ate a bite, watching her eat. “The local guy and I told the reporters off for thinking your father came back to kill that serial guy in Chicago.” She paused, her fork in mid-air, staring at him. He grinned. “One out back in the hedge, one under the doormat. She didn’t do much damage, just a few broken twigs.” He ate a bite. “No damaged flowers.”

“Huh.” She went back to eating, shaking her head. He grinned. “Why did they think it was him?”

“Fairly weak history reports since the guy was shot in the courtroom,” Sid said with a small shrug.

She shook her head again. “Clearly they didn’t study at all. My father hated guns.” She went back to eating. “But I had no idea that Charles Dama was out.” He choked, calling the locals to let them tell the reporters that. Maybe they could head in his direction instead. She smirked at him and he handed her the rest of the spaghetti. “Thank you.” She ate. He settled in to eat too. Then he did the dishes while she went up to shower and go back to bed. He realized he didn’t have anything clean and did a quick load of laundry. She came out of her bedroom in her granny nightgown. “Forgot to pick up anything?” she teased.

“Yup. I was busy busting a gang kid who decided he didn’t want to run after hearing how badass I am.” She laughed, going back to her room. He went to take his own shower so he could add what he was wearing right now. That’d help a lot since the guy probably wasn’t going to be caught tomorrow. He went to bed, listening to her snore. She must be coming down with a cold. She hadn’t snored last night.

***

Sid walked out the next morning to get whoever was pounding on the door. He looked and was tempted to send them down to the pit but opened it. “She’s still in bed. It’s six in the morning.” He let the Under-Director in. “Sandra, visitor,” he called, heading that way.

She came down pulling on a robe, staring at her boss. “Sir.” She tied the robe. “It’s very early. Is it an emergency?”

“You’re suing over him?”

“Yes. Because someone decided to rehire him.”

“You didn’t let me know.”

“No, because apparently they went above your head. I asked someone I trust out there who had him rehired and it was the Director.” Under-Director Malone winced. “So while I’d normally let you handle it, this time they tied your hands as well.” She stared at him. “Plus he’s not a very good profiler so they’re going to have problems out of the LA office.”

“You didn’t even send me an email?”

“I did. I sent you two emails. Both about that and the chat forum’s issue.”

“Chat forum? On the FBI server?” She nodded, leading her into the kitchen so she could grab her laptop and log on to show him. He read and growled. “That I’ll stop.”

“It’s nice that half the people I’ve worked with believe him.”

“It’s pathetic and they’re clearly not worthy to be my profilers.” He looked at her. “I’ll handle that.”

“The suit stays. They rehired him after he got arrested for stalking me again. Even after the judge told him to stop it again.”

“I heard.” He patted her on the arm. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship.”

“That cult in San Diego’s leader escaped,” Sid said. “I’m her loyal yet cute bodyguard.”

Under-Director Malone stared at him then at her. “Congratulations.” She blushed. He smirked. “He’s a nice looking guy.” He straightened up. “Let me start on this. Are you going to let it go if we can him again?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The house could use a new roof. My mother did always say that if the need came to be vindictive, to be as vindictive as you could be so no one would do it a second time. Clearly I failed last time.”

“I’ll do what I can. Did they work out your current assignment?”

“Yes, sir, though I do have to protest that my paycheck didn’t get sent with everyone else’s yesterday. And it’s not in my bank account either.”

“I’ll look into that.”

“I was going to check and then call you later.”

“That’s reasonable. Thank you for trying to save me some work, Sandra.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Be safe and let me check on things.”

“Even if they fired her, she could still be a roaming profiler that wasn’t FBI,” Sid said. “I’m pretty sure most of the guys in our areas like and trust her more than some of the other agents who seem to be riding a broomstick the wrong way.”

“Quite a few,” Malone agreed dryly. He smiled at her and left. He’d get to the local office in time to chew someone a new one before his flight back to DC so he could chew the director out in person.

Sandra looked at him. “Let me get dressed.”

“I’ll start some coffee?” She smiled and went back upstairs. He started coffee and some bagels toasting. She came down dressed and checked then started some eggs frying. He added a slice of cheese, she added some sliced ham, and it was a good start to the day.

***

Sid ran after the putz running from him. A soft growl was starting and Sid was starting to feel the old rush. The guy was heading for a set of shipping containers. Sid pounced him and knocked him down, sliding them in the dirt. He pulled out his cuffs and hitched him up then looked around. “This is charming,” he said. “I lost the people who’d keep me from beating the hell out of you for running.” The guy was groaning in pain. “Shut up.”

Sid heard a banging and looked, then hauled the guy up, dragging him toward where the banging was. “PD,” he shouted. He heard a voice complaining and opened the shipping container, finding a few officers, including his boss and Sandra. “Who?”

“Some evil idiots,” Turner told him. He looked at the roughed up perp. “Who?”

“Rapist. He showed up to talk to Sandra. Then he ran.”

Turner looked around then at him. “You chased him this far from the office?”

“Yeah. He ran!” He shrugged, handing him over. “Have the idiot.” He looked over as a car pulled their way. “Ah, that sort of evil idiot.” He unhitched his gun. “Sandra….”

“I was an officer,” she said firmly.

“Good, then guard the putz you were trying to catch for SVU.” He handed him to her. Two men got out of the back of the car. They were sneering. “We having problems, guys? Or was this some sort of publicity stunt?”

“Detective Steinway, what are you doing here?”

“Chased a rapist.” He gave them a smug look. “It pays to be in shape.” One pulled a gun but Sid was a bit faster and they both fell. “Did you think I got soft from the Sixth?” he said dryly.

“No, just more normal,” Turner said. He and the others went to get the guys in the car.

Sandra gave him a strange look. “You were in the Sixth?”

“Yeah, started there and was there until I got booted to homicide when I passed my detectives exam. I was a true badass when I was younger.” He grinned. “Shocking, huh?”

“Most of them were misogynist pains in my uniform.”

“Yeah, that’s why we had sensitivity lectures every few years.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I looked you up after that first case. You graduated the academy the year before I did.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did.” She looked confused. “I worked night there because I was the rookie they wanted. We were mostly by Big G’s choice.”

“I didn’t realize that.” She looked at the idiot Sid had captured. “You sure it’s him?”

“He’s the one that came up to talk to you and he yelled back he’d quit going after those women when I was chasing him.”

She looked at him. “You don’t jog.”

“I do PT every morning. It helps even out my fondness for starchy things.” He grinned. More cars showed up and he looked at one. “Did I lose you guys?” he demanded.

“Yup,” his deskmate said. He came over to get that guy. “Thanks, Steinway.”

“Welcome. Was he working alone?” he asked Sandra.

“No. He liked to carve and the blood. His buddy liked the rest.”

“We’ll find out, Molarn,” Sid’s deskmate assured her. “Them?”

“Dirty, filthy, nasty things,” Sid said dryly. “Who had them in a shipping container.”

“We’ll get the Chief of Detectives,” one said, calling his office.

Sandra walked over to talk to her suspect, making him whimper because Sid followed to stare at him. She looked at him. “I can make him beg on my own.”

“I know.” He grinned. “I’m hoping for points in interrogation watching you.”

She stared at him. “You’re so weird.” He laughed, nodding slightly. “I have to go to the FBI dinner tonight to get my ten year certificate. Otherwise I’d avoid them all.”

“Got something locally? You can’t hope to make it home in time.”

“In the car. I’m not fond of it though.”

“Then we’ll see what happens.” He smirked. “You can come home with me and have my couch.”

“Thanks. I can do that.” She looked at the suspect again. “So?” He let out a moan and turned to vomit. “Aww, did you run too far?” She got handed a bottle of water and let him have it. “Even vomiting up the blood you licked from them won’t keep you from being questioned, dear. So just give it up now so I don’t have to go be a bad girl later on your friend.” He stared at her, glaring some. She stared back. “I’ve seen worse. A lot worse. Hell, I’ve seen worse begging for their lives after I got done with them.”

She moved closer. “You want to tell me because otherwise you get to go down for all of it. Which means he’ll get to keep having fun while you don’t get to.” She patted him on the head, smoothing down his hair. “He’ll get to keep playing and you won’t get a single bit of blood that’s not yours from the bigger cons picking on you. Because you can’t last against a con who’s been doing nothing but lifting weights for the last five years of being pissed off at humanity.”

“He won’t get caught by you. He might like you though.”

She laughed. “I doubt it. I’m not the nice fairy, dear. Actually I’m not really nice at all.”

“Her mother got away with smacking cops on the head with shovels,” Sid told him. “They were scared to death of her mom. She’s a lot like her. Plus we’d all look away if she beat your ass.”

“There’s so much better ways of causing pain than hitting people, Sid,” she chided with a smile. “There’s pressure points and tiny hidden needles that don’t get caught on camera. There’s a bit of pepper oil on anything like scrapes. I have some neosporin in my desk at home that has some in it.” He grinned at her for that. The guy was trying to move away. “No, you have to stay with us until we feel like you’ve told us what we want to know. And then you can go with the nice, normal officers.” She pointed. “The block doc will gladly doctor those scrapes you have instead of me if you tell me what you know.”

“Paul,” he started then whined.

“Paul…..” She petted him again, adding her nails. He was shivering and whimpering at the stimulation. The fear plus the arousal was making him unable to respond. “Paul who, dear?” She gave a harder scratch, earning a hard shiver and him going to his knees, hugging her legs. “Name?”

“Paul Whitleson,” he said to her shoes.

“Good boy.” She petted him again. “Officers, take him to get him a nice, quiet spot and some treatment for his scrapes.”

“I pounced,” Sid said dryly. “We ground surfed.” The officer nodded, taking him off to go back to homicide with him. She walked over to tell Turner that name. He called SVU to let them know. Sid followed, then turned and growled, punching someone hard. The man yelped and backed up. They kept fighting until Sandra came over with her pocket knife. “C’mon,” he complained.

“Mine,” she said, staring at him. “Satre. How unpleasant to see you.”

“You will be mine!” he shouted and lunged. She casually let his stomach run into the knife. “No! It’s not right! God favors me!”

“I’m sure he does. That’s why it wasn’t in your heart or somewhere lower and more dirty.” She smiled. “Boys, this man is an escaped cop killer from San Diego.” They ran over to get him. “I want my knife back.” She yanked it out and took off her jacket to clean it off. Then it went back into her pocket. She stared at him. “You’re not worthy of me. You have little manners, you think women are lesser beings, and you’re arrogant, plus I heard pitiful in bed.” She looked at Sid, who smiled and waved for her to proceed him. He walked her off, letting them handle it while the guy raged and ranted.

He took the chance to put a hand on her lower back, earning a smile. “Suit good enough?”

“A suit would be fine. Women are to be in cocktail dresses basically.” She grimaced. “Which means hose and shaving.”

“Have everything in the car?”

“Yes. I packed just in case.” She sighed. “I hate those things. It’s a boring dinner and then the awards followed by a tepid dance. I never go to them.”

“I don’t go to the PD ones either,” he admitted. “It’s for those who want to suck up and things.”

She nodded. “Definitely.” She looked at the staring higher ups. “I have to go to the dinner tonight. My ever-gallant bodyguard is going with me. Do we have paperwork?”

“Quite a lot but you can do it tomorrow,” Turner said with a smirk.

“Thanks, boss.” He walked her off. He knew not to look that gift horse in the mouth. “That should mean all day behind a desk tomorrow,” he quipped.

“Probably for me as well.”

He nodded. “Probably.” He got her into a squad car and slid into the other side. “Homicide.”

“Yes, Detective. And um….”

“Agent Sandra Molarn, profiler,” she said with a smile.

“I heard about you, ma’am. Nice job with the psycho.”

“He killed some officers stopping his sexual domination cult.”

“Do you always deal with strange guys like that?” he asked as he drove them off.

“Quite often unfortunately.”

“I guess I’ll stay a normal officer then.”

“That’s what I did but homicide or SVU means you’ll still see ‘em,” Sid told him.

“I’ll keep that in mind when it’s my turn to try the exam.” He dropped them off a few minutes later. “Have a good night, Detective and Agent.”

“You as well.” She smiled at him. “A safe night, Officer Dougher.” She walked inside to grab her bag and they headed to Sid’s place. Her bag was in her trunk. She did hate that dress. It wasn’t really…her style. Sid looked at the dress then gave her an odd look. “One of the other profilers insisted I get it for a dinner award a few years back. I thought it was too flashy and complicated.”

“It’s nice,” he admitted. “But not really you.” He checked his watch. “We have two hours. We can hit a store.”

She considered it then nodded and went to shave her legs and armpits, lotion her feet and elbows, do her eyebrows and makeup, and then her hair went up in a simple bun. She came out to find Sid had on a nice black suit with a black shirt and a black tie. She stared at him, mouth slightly open. “The guys at the Sixth made me buy it.”

She giggled. “I was going to say it was a bit too tough guy for your usual ones.”

“I want them all to think I’m a pussycat since the Sixth got shut.” He followed her out. “Where is the dinner? There’s three nice shops that do semi-formal gear.”

“The local Hilton’s ballroom I believe.” She looked at the invitation. “Yes.”

“Then that leaves two. Let’s go where my sister goes.” He drove her off, taking her there. He had put the other dress in the car in case she had to change. He walked her inside. “FBI awards dinner, ladies.” He spotted one. “You’re working?”

“For about a year now. You never listen.”

“I’m going to shoot your husband for making you work.”

Sandra looked at him. “I take it this is your sister?”

“This is. Sandra, this is my sister Meg. Meg, this is Agent Sandra Molarn. She’s got an FBI thing tonight.”

“I was hoping that’s why you were dressed up,” Meg quipped, taking her to look at the dress racks. “You’re about a six?”

“Eight.”

“Formal?”

“Cocktail dress to slightly better. Not too shiny, not too slutty please.”

“Modest, tasteful…. Matches my brother,” she said, taking down a few. “That one’s a six but it runs a bit big. And this black one. Classic and it can be worn some other time.” She let her into the changing area. “Let me know if you need any help getting into those.”

“I think I can but zippers might not work for me. Thank you, Meg.”

“Welcome.” She walked over to her brother, straightening his tie for him. She smirked. “Mom is going to nag,” she said quietly.

“Probably. We’re dating.” He looked at something then at her, earning a smirk. She got her some of the necessary things like hose and a better bra. Clearly the woman needed something better.

“Here, a strapless bra. C cup?” Sandra nodded, switching to that. It did fit very snugly but that was good for a strapless bra. Meg walked in to help her into that dress, then she shook her head and tried on another one. That was nicer. But the black one suited her figure very well. It was knee-length but the back was a bit lower. It was strapless, conformed to her body but didn’t get showy. The few ruffles around the bottom weren’t too cutesy. It was plain and suited her figure. She tried on the green one. It was flashy but still modest. It also looked like it was for a younger woman. “Too prom-y,” Meg decided, helping her back into the black one. She took the others back and let Sandra slide into the hose and shoes plus bundle up her other clothes. She came out and paid for the dress, letting Sid check her body out.

“You did great, Sis.” He paid for the extras with a wink and walked out with her. Sandra slid into the car, making sure the skirt didn’t ride up. “Quit fluttering,” he chided with a grin. “You’re beautiful and they’re just jealous because you’re so good.”

“Half of them hate me.”

“Then they’re pansies and their minds are weak.”

“Probably,” she agreed. He drove them to the Hilton and she looked at him. “Much work here?”

“They held our prom here.” She giggled. “Yeah, I only went for the party later on. Actually I went twice. My girlfriend at the time went to an all-girl’s school so I went to mine and hers.” He parked with the valet and got out, taking the slip from the valet’s fingers. He walked around and helped her out, smiling at her. “Need to make any stops?”

“Not yet.” She walked off with him. She flashed her ID and her invitation.

“Agent Molarn, we have you at the regional table.” He pointed. “With Section Head Peters.” She nodded and walked them that way. He greeted the next one with a smile. “Agent Syms.”

Sandra let Sid pull out her chair for her and sat delicately. She wiggled back a little bit. Sid helped her and then sat down. “Good evening.”

“Evening, Molarn. You look nice.” She smiled at him. “Malone said to call him tomorrow. He couldn’t get you today.”

“I spent part of today inside a shipping container.”

“New scene?” he asked.

“No. Some problems.” She smiled. “It was solved.”

Sid nodded. “Fairly quickly. As well as that idiot from San Diego.”

“Wonderful. So I take it you’ll be in tomorrow to meet your trainee and do paperwork?”

She nodded. “Probably all day,” she quipped, sipping her water.

“Paperwork is a horrible reward for doing a good job,” another agent quipped.

“I’ll have a lot more than usual. I had to defend myself from him by using my self defense knife,” she said. “And then ruined his view of his masculinity.”

“Cult member,” Sid told a confused looking female agent who was wearing slutty clothes and too much perfume.

“Oh. So you’re a profiler?” Sandra smiled and nodded. “Better you than me then. I like being the normal sort of agent. Give me thugs any day.”

“I see plenty of thugs, I just see thugs who think strange thoughts.” The section head laughed. The other agents all shuddered. “But I did clear up that case for SVU because Sid chased him over half the city.”

“Thank you, Steinway.”

“Not a problem. Ladies should never have to deal with scum like that.”

“You’re an officer?” that same female agent asked.

“Homicide locally.” He grinned. “It’s a hard job but we need more people to do it.”

“I bet.”

Sandra patted Sid’s knee. “Did you see who the driver of that car was?”

“Yup,” he said, looking smug. “Maybe that mandatory retirement will be overturned.”

“I’d hope so. It could cause a lot of problems for the local department.”

The section head looked at them. “Do tell,” he ordered.

“The people who had us trapped in the shipping container, after having had us removed from a meeting by force, showed up to kill us,” Sandra told him. “Including the commissioner driving.”

“Interesting news. Mandatory retirement?”

“He decided to save the budget by making anyone over fifty-five retire,” Sid said before sipping his water.

“Oh, crap,” the section head said, going to talk to his bosses. That would cause the office problems. Waiters came around with dinner for everyone, and then disappeared. Sandra and Sid nibbled and talked. The food was bland and she used pepper liberally before handing it over. The section head came back. “We’ll talk to the mayor about that tomorrow. Thank you for that warning.”

“Welcome,” Sid told him. He glanced around. “I wonder if the PD events are this quiet.”

“Yes,” the section head sighed. “Most of the time.” He ate a bite. “Food’s better though,” he said once he had swallowed. “You don’t go?”

“I don’t want to suck up to the higher ups, so why go be bored?” he asked.

“Good point.” They went back to polite conversation. “Molarn, why did you show up tonight?”

“Ten years,” she sighed.

“Ah.” He smirked. “You don’t look that old. Must be all the time off you’ve had from the traveling show you had before.”

“Quite possibly. I actually got eight whole hours of sleep the other day. My body nearly rebelled and kept me in bed all day.” He laughed, sipping his water so he didn’t choke. “I spent so much time traveling I didn’t even bother with an apartment in DC,” she told the others. “I was only there maybe a month total every year.” They all shuddered.

“I found one when I came out of the academy and moved out of the house,” Sid told her. “I just haven’t cared since then. I know it’s tiny but it’s all I need.”

She smiled. “It was well painted.”

“Meg last year. She went on a decorating kick with the last son.” He ate a bite, handing her his spare roll. She smiled and nibbled on it. “My other sister got her whole place decorated in a fairly femme style that included gold tassels. She was so upset but her girlfriend liked it.”

“I haven’t even thought about undoing Mother’s decorating at our house,” Sandra admitted. “Everything’s in good shape so I just left the flowered couch and things alone.” She ate a bite.

The section head looked at her. “Aren’t both your parents deceased?” She nodded. “So you inherited their house?”

“Who else would?”

“Good point but a lot of kids sell them because of the taxes.”

“With how much I travel, most of my living expenses were reimbursed.” He smirked at her. “Honestly. I’ve spent a lot of time weeding Mother’s garden. Her roses needed it a lot. I hadn’t had time in the last few months.”

“She’s done a beautiful job cleaning up the little weeds vexing the roses,” Sid told them.

“You two….”

“I was guarding her when that guy from earlier escaped,” Sid told her. He smiled at her. “But I would love it if she’d agree to date me for real.” She blushed and ducked her head. “I find her charming, smart, and she likes my sense of humor.”

“You nut,” Sandra complained, swatting him on the hand. He smirked at her. She blinked and *knew* that was what her mother had told her about men. She kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll see but next dinner you make.”

“We can do that. That way you don’t have to drive home tomorrow after all that paperwork?” She nodded and dug in again. He looked at her. “Sandra, did you have stitches or something?” he asked.

She looked over her shoulder. “A few but they were mostly healed.” She got up and laid the napkin over the spot. “Let me go get that other dress. Excuse me.” She and Sid left to do that, him getting the dress while she cleaned up her back.

The waiter came over. “Was there a problem?” he asked the section head.

“She had some new stitches that broke open apparently,” he said quietly, nodding at the chair. He nodded and switched it out. They had worse than some blood on chairs in the past. “They’re very efficient and nice here,” he told the other agents, who nodded. Sandra came back in a different, slightly shorter dress that had straps around the mid-section and sparkles all over. Sid helped her into her seat again and then sat down. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Just fine. I applied a new bandage. The hedge bit me the other day.” They all smiled at her. “And when I tripped, I scraped my back on the bear traps out back.”

“You have bear traps?” a male agent asked her.

“Yes, it’s part of the security system in the backyard. Because you can’t break into the house when you’re screaming and trying to save your foot.” She ate a bite.

“Or try to poke around the house like the teenagers locally try to do or the reporters tried to do,” Sid agreed. She smiled at him. “I’ll check those for you later.” She nodded. He looked at her new dress. It had thick straps for the shoulders, a solid, square-cut top with sparkly threads and a few sequins around the bottom. The middle section was thin straps crisscrossing her waist and back. It showed her form very well and it was showy without being slutty. The skirt was just above knee length, straight, and the same fabric. She had kept the thigh high hose and black modest heeled pumps. He got her another roll since it was the most edible of the whole dinner. She handed him the pepper shaker and he applied it to the turkey, or he thought it was turkey, and it was better.

Fortunately their stomachs were saved by the awards and certificates for so many years of putting up with the politics. She walked up to accept hers, smiling at the local bureau chief. He smiled back and shook her hand. She went back to her seat. After all the boring stuff was done they were told to go next door for the dancing portion. A lot of older, slower songs so he made her dance with him. She looked nervous but he was decent at dancing like this. They made their escape an hour later, heading back to his house.

“Dinner?” she suggested.

“Ice cream,” he countered. She moaned and nodded. He stopped to pick them up some and then take it home. He had the other stuff they needed for sundaes. He let her grab her suitcase from the trunk so she could get comfortable. She came out in a two-piece pajama set, a long sleeve top with a few buttons at the collar and a pair of soft cotton pants. She was barefoot and he grinned, handing her the nice sundae.

“Thank you, Sid.”

“Welcome, Sandra.” He loosened his tie. “Let me change too.” She blushed. He winked. “I’ll keep something on. I try to most nights.” He went to the bathroom with some pajama pants. She ate her ice cream, trying to keep herself from thinking dirty thoughts. He came out in the soft, worn, obviously older and well used pajama pants and his undershirt. She realized she was staring but she wasn’t sure why.

He took her ice cream and kissed her gently then handed it back with a smile. “You can stare. I put a lot of work into those abs.” She blushed more and ducked her head. He kissed her on the forehead. “I don’t want to make you embarrassed,” he said quietly.

“I’m not totally certain at this point if I am.”

“It’s because no one saw past the scary to the smart, pretty woman you are. It’s their loss and I feel like I won the lottery with you.” She blinked at him. He smiled and ate some ice cream.

She fed him some of her chocolate sauce. “Your blood sugar must be low with how much sugar you just let out.”

He laughed. “That’s the guy I am, Sandra.” She laughed. They finished their treat and he put them in the dishwasher. “That’s why I really got this place.” She laughed. He helped her make up the couch and went to his room. He left the door open. It wasn’t exactly an offer but he’d wake up if she opened the door. It also let her have better access to the bathroom. He got up and went out there. “Let me check your back.” She gave him an odd look. “The stitches.” She nodded, turning and lifting up the back of her shirt. He checked. “They look okay. It must’ve been the new scrapes that broke open earlier.”

“When they took us hostage.”

“Figures. They needed smacked harder.” He kissed her on the head and went back to his bed. His big, lonely bed.

She laid down on the couch and considered things. She was always so analytical. Is that what she wanted?

to chapter 6

Sid heard her get up and took a quick shower, coming out dressed in the stuff he kept in his trunk for emergency overnight shifts. He came out yawning but grinning. “I noticed some of the walls look like newer wood.”

“We had a fire when I was six.” She was stirring eggs in a bowl. “Scrambled?”

“Wonderful.” He watched her cook, leaning against the counter. “A villagers appear with pitchforks thing?”

She smiled. “Not quite. Just one villager. The fire department answered very quickly and put it out. Mostly because my mother was going to kill them for daring to burn us in the house while we slept. Especially me. The guy got pulled off begging for mercy from her.” She looked at him again. “He claimed he didn’t want to hurt me. Just Dad. Dad promised they could talk about that issue of his some day *real* soon so he begged not to get bail either. Made a nice deal for the arson.” Sid grinned. “We went on vacation while the few areas were fixed. New Jersey was seriously weird in the winter time.”

He gave her a shoulder nudge, grinning at her. “Your mom pick up another shovel?”

“It came very close to Mom picking up an axe off the fire truck,” she admitted. “Dad had to keep stopping her from grabbing one and the officers weren’t really going to do more than watch what happened. Not that they wanted the idiot dead but then they’d have a good reason to arrest them both and supposedly save me.”

“Foster care can be rough on a kid.”

“I ended up in one for two weeks during that last trial. Then they realized they were trying to pin things on Father that they couldn’t, because he hadn’t done them, and he was smarter than everyone else. Dad sent her a nice thank you card for taking such good care of me since I was still distressed by Mom having died recently.” She grinned. “She was a pretty nice lady. Obviously they told her because she kept bringing me to her church every few days to pray for me. She sent me a letter when I graduated the academy saying that clearly all her prayers for me to be normal and a good woman had worked and she was thankful she had helped. I sent back a very nice thank you note.”

Sid grinned. “My old man was a cop, it was expected that I find some sort of career. He was shocked when I went to the Academy instead of into plumbing with his brother. I used to help him on the summers for the cash. Dad gave me good advice about how to have patience as a rookie. Mom sobbed the whole graduation ceremony. Dad had to keep reminding her cops didn’t die on the job all that often.”

“Did he? I know you only mention your mother.”

“Car accident a few years back.”

She patted him on the hand he had resting on the counter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He growled at the paramedics. Then they realized that was because he was bleeding a lot from the stick shift being in his liver.” He shrugged. “Freak accident.”

“No, freak accident was why they think my father’s haunting the house, Sid.” He gave her a curious look. She poured the mixed egg into the pan and let it cook. “My father had a home care nurse because he really hated the local nursing homes. His liver was shot by hepatitis. He was a miserable sick person most of the time. So we had a nurse who put up with him. Lived in, all that. Fairly decent woman. Never stole and took good care of him, no matter how much he grumped at bed baths.” She stirred the eggs around. “The night Dad died, she went to the bar to celebrate being free. She had an accident on the way home. She blew a point-three something.” She pushed her hair back behind her ear. “They all decided it was Dad getting one last good one in even with her drinking.”

“Idiots. Even if he was haunting, he’d still be figuring out how to float around the house or finding you, not going after his caregiver if she didn’t molest him or anything.”

“That’s what I pointed out but they all gave me odd looks. One said it was nice I still stuck up for my father. Then I reminded her she had blown a point-three something. She just let me have my delusion as she put it. And gave me a cheap rosary for help when my father showed up to nag me.”

“I think if he was haunting, he’d have went to bother the people nagging you,” Sid said dryly, earning another smile. “Mine would.”

“Mine would too. Though I’d expect that more from my mother.” She stirred the eggs to let the uncooked ones get some heat. “Pull down plates?”

“I can do that,” he said, looking and finding them. He made some toast too, earning a grin. “Have to have some carbs for energy or you crash in a few hours.”

“No work?”

“Turner said I’m to stick on you until they find him.”

“What happens if I get a call out?” she asked dryly.

“I’ll be liaising, which looks good for the department.” He took his plate and traded her some of the toast he had buttered. She put the pan aside and they sat down at the table in there to eat. It was a nice morning. “So tell me about this guy?”

“He had a pseudo-religious cult based on sexual domination and serving the Lord and Master properly. They’d later probably work up to suicide to be with him properly.” Sid nodded at that. She ate a bite. “He decided I was a perfect wife. I was smart, pure, could be made to bend to his will or so he thought. It’d legitimize his goals because he had ‘tamed and reformed me’,” she said, doing air quotes with one hand. The other she used to nibble on some toast. “The San Diego PD was more than happy to arrest him for that and commit all his members to a hospital to get right with themselves. A few had some pretty bad sexual pasts.” Sid nodded once. “He got the death penalty because he shot two officers during the raid and one died.” She ate another bite. “Both female officers but she was an older lady.”

“So he’s an ass of the highest order, shot a female cop, and was smart enough to be able to escape. Do we think he’ll show up here?”

“I’m the one that identified him as the head of the cult. He had a slightly talking head in front of him but not fully. There’s a good chance but I can’t be certain. I’m sure the officers in California are all on alert since he shot one of their own.”

“All the officers all over the US are going to be aware of this guy since he’s fugitive number one right now.” She smiled. He smirked. “We take those things personal. Even the guys that deal with the idiots in compounds hoarding too many guns would hate that guy.”

She nodded. “I still feel that anger. I did punch him to get him down. The officers all gave me looks like I was strange until I said I had been in patrol until I did my masters.” He smirked at her. She smirked back. “They thought we were all eggheads.” She ate a bite. “I should finish the garden today.”

“That meeting,” he reminded her.

“I totally forgot about that.” She finished up and moved to do dishes.

“I’ll do those. You go get into professional clothes.” She nodded, letting him do that. He ate his last few bites and got up to start dishes for her. He was already dressed. She came out as he was washing out the sink so he grabbed his jacket from his room and walked out. “Your car or mine?”

“We can take our own. Turner will probably recall you since we’ll have that meeting half the day.”

“We can ask him,” he decided. He grinned. “Yours or mine?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not used to the overprotective male routine, Sid.”

“Neither am I. I’m following orders. If you want me to I can be a total caveman about it and toss you over my shoulder and all that.”

“No, that’s all right,” she said dryly. She got into her car and he got into the passenger’s seat. “This will mean you won’t have yours all day.”

“I actually only have cold cases right now,” he told her. “So I’d be at the desk of doom anyway.”

“Fine.” She shook her head.

“We have to follow orders,” he teased.

She swatted him on the arm. “A little bit of rule breaking is good for a soul.”

He smirked. “I could suggest you go weed the garden instead of the meeting.”

“That would trash my professional reputation. Thank you for reminding me.”

He grinned. “It’s cute seeing you in your Fed suit.” She swatted him again but he grinned back. “I expected pants suits but that suit looks nice on you. Suits your figure and coloring.” She blushed but covered it up by starting the car and backing down the driveway. He grinned at her. She swatted him again, making him laugh, but it was all good to him. It was fun making her blush. And cute too. When they finally got to the FBI building, he walked her up there. “Turner, safe as ordered.”

“Thanks, Steinway.” He looked her over, then at him. He smiled. “He’s somewhere in Texas.”

“I can pick up stuff for dinner,” he offered, smiling at her.

She made a short list and handed it over. “I’ll pay you back when you pick me up?”

“That’ll work.” He winked and strolled off.

“Finish that paperwork the DA handed back too,” Turner called after him.

“Yup, sure will.”

“Thank you.” He opened the door, letting her inside. “Gentlemen, Agent Molarn.”

“Good morning,” she said with a smile. She put her briefcase down on the table and sat down. “Have we already started without me?”

“Not yet,” Turner told her. “We’re still waiting on two other department heads to get up here. They’re parking.”

“That’s fine. If you’re not used to the traffic around here, you can get stuck or lost fairly easily.”

“You’re a local girl?” one of the other department heads asked.

“I am. I’m from about an hour away. I’ve been weeding my mother’s garden for the last few days.” The other two walked in and she smiled. “Captain Sales. Captain Morat.” She shook their hands.

“I’m glad they sent you instead of the snide one,” Captain Morat told her as he sat down.

“Dethers is no longer a profiler. They fired him for stalking me.”

Morat burst out laughing. “That doesn’t surprise me any, Sandra. So… you’re ours now.” He smirked.

“All that is to be decided,” she teased back. “Usually I consider myself Turner’s because he was my old CO when I was a rookie cop.”

The others snickered at that. They liked agents who used to be officers, they gave them less problems.

***

Sid walked in and gave the guys staring at him a dirty look. “Anything new on where that dirtbag is?”

“Was it weird being at her house?” his deskmate asked.

“No. She’s a really nice lady. She’s a pretty decent cook too.” He grinned. “The house is really nice. Still decorated by her mother but pretty nice.” He sat down at his desk, looking at the folder from the DA. “Awww, he took a deal. Shithead.” He did the final report for them and put it aside to toss on Turner’s desk later. “Guys, not like her house has ghosts,” he said dryly. They shrugged and got back to work. “Anything on where he is?”

“Not yet,” his deskmate said. “We haven’t heard anything.”

Sid leaned back in his chair and called a US Marshall he knew and had worked with before. “Hey, Bill, it’s Sid. Yeah, me. No, I’m working with Agent Molarn….. Yes, him. Any idea?” He took notes, because no one had heard that yet. “That’s interesting. No, she’s up here at home. They decentralized profilers so she’s ours since she’s native.” He nodded, making that note as well. “That’s good to know since he was fired for stalking her. Thanks, man. Let me know? Yup, I’m helping guard her. Thanks, Bill.”

He hung up and texted that information to Sandra’s phone. Then copied it to Turner’s. He checked his other paperwork and did his own searching over the internet to see if they could find the idiot hunting her this time. He found a site he didn’t expect and stared at it. It was on the FBI server. He tapped his fingers on the keys a few times before reading further. This was not a good thing to find. He wondered if she knew. He’d show it to her later. That way she could react away from people that she might have to smite.

Sid’s phone rang. “Steinway,” he answered. “Hi, Ma.” He listened to her. “No, Mom, I can’t. Because I’m guarding an FBI agent and I can’t bring her to dinner. Mother,” he said dryly, cracking up his deskmate. “I promise she’s a really nice lady and all that but she is not ready to meet my family. No, I’m guarding her. Yes, but you and both sisters will make more of than it is at the moment. So no, we can’t come to dinner right now. Not unless someone else wants to guard her tonight. I’ll try for this weekend. Mother!” His deskmate cackled. “She has a very nice guest room, Mom. Really. Sorry, Ma.” He hung up before she got too insistent. “Who told her?”

“No clue,” another detective joked. “Maybe Turner?”

“It could be Psychic Mother Skills,” another said. “My wife claims she grew some with the trauma of childbirth.”

“If so, she’d let me shoot my brother-in-law.” They all laughed. “He actually agreed with my sister that if they have a daughter she’ll do those creepy kid beauty pageants.”

A few guys shuddered. “Yeah,” one said, shaking his head. “We’ll make sure you have a good alibi that day.”

“Thanks,” Sid said with a grin. “I might need it a lot.” They laughed. Sid went back to his searching this new information. When he found out the really bad thing, he unhoooked his laptop and brought it with him. He texted her once he got to the FBI parking garage. She met him in the elevator, letting her see that page he had saved down.

She grimaced. “That’s good to know.” He got her onto the other site. The whole building was wired for Wi-Fi. She nodded, pushing the button to go back up to the meeting. She walked in and put the laptop down in front of the local FBI bureau chief. He read it and then moaned. She showed him the other one and whimpered. “I believe we need to handle this before this is going to become a problem.”

“I think you’re right. I’ll call Malone after this, Molarn.” She smiled. “How did you find this?”

“Detective Steinway found it.” She pointed at him.

“There’s a whole forum on the FBI chat server about her,” he said quietly from the doorway. “I thought it pertinent she find out that the person she has a restraining order against is rehired.”

“I believe you’re right,” the bureau chief agreed. He handed the laptop back to her, letting her hand it back to Sid. “We’ll factor that in our discussions of how to abuse her skills, Detective.”

“That’s fine.” He smiled at her. “I’ve fought off my mother demanding that I bring whoever I’m guarding home so she can nag about grandchildren but she’s threatened to look you up through some other officers she knows. So expect a call?”

She smiled. “I’ll be very polite.”

He shrugged. “I think she’s going insane.” He walked off.

She sat down again. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s important,” Turner said. “Where is Dethers working?”

“LA.”

“Is he saying something about the current issue that has you protected?” Captain Sales asked.

“Not that I’ve seen so far. Though he is *certain* that I’m going to be following in my father’s footsteps. Hence him being caught by my parents’ security system twice in two weeks.”

“I like that pit underneath your doormat,” the local chief told her. The other FBI office head looked at him so he outlined her security system as he knew it. Plus what Dether’s problems were. They made plans for when she was working in local offices so nothing could get her since Turner noted that sometimes the psychos thought she was major wife potential. It was a good meeting.

Turner took her back to the office when they were done, stopping to get her something to eat for lunch. She was nice enough to buy too. He walked her in and sat her beside Steinway. “Anything new?”

He looked up from his typing. “I talked to Marshall Bill, which was how I found out about Dethers. He’s in eastern Texas by their last sighting. There’s a whole lot in his way though. Including the Rangers feeling pissed off that he avoided them. He decided to call up the old file to track any of his former cult members. There’s three on his probable path so they’re going to start there,” he told her. Getting a nod back made him smile. She was sipping her lemonade. “Pretzels?”

“I’m not in the mood for real food.” She put it down beside her chair. “Only three?”

“One died.” He let her see that note. She grimaced. “Anything you remember about them?”

She pointed. “That one was like his first wife.” Sid moved to text that to the Marshall he knew. She put it down. “If he’s heading to the east, make sure he can’t meet up with Peter Vogash. He’s running a cult in Virginia that’s along the same lines. He could easily step in and kill Peter, because he’s a woose. They’d all support Satre instead because he has a better draw and charisma. He can walk the walk better.”

“I can add that,” Sid said, texting that as well. “Any others he could coopt?”

“There’s only three known cults east of the Mississippi right now that aren’t highly religious groups. I doubt he could take over a cult of ‘God touched us and we’re the true followers’ sorts.” She considered it. “The other three aren’t as likely. They’re more minor religious ones. A reborn Christ figure one in Florida, a Jim Jones sort in Alabama. There’s that one in Virginia.” He nodded, making note of those. “There’s one up in Maine that’s slowly forming. I doubt it’ll turn more than a hippie commune in the end since it started that way.” Sid stared at her. “It was a ‘get back to nature’ old school group. A few eco terrorists but mostly just hippy leftovers.”

“So a green freak, free love commune that may or may not go after tree loggers,” Sid decided, making those notes as well. “We’ll send a letter up that way to their state police to warn them to watch over them for the first sign of trouble.” He looked at her. “No others?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Could he be getting material help from anyone not in his cult?” Turner asked.

“No. Not that I’m aware of. His cult wasn’t well known. There wasn’t any overseas members that I remember.” She called someone. “Do me a favor and get into the Satre cult file and find all his members for the Marshall’s service?” she asked. “And then tell me who rehired Dethers for the FBI?” She listened to her former boss. “Well, yes, that’s important to me since I had to pull him out of my security system twice. Sure, let me sue you all.” She hung up to call someone else. “Paul, Sandra Molarn. Yes, I want to resue them. They rehired him and … LA office. Though before he was rehired he spent a while in my home’s security system. Please do. I’m with Captain Turner. Yes. Thank you.” She hung up. “My lawyer will want a statement about him being in there.”

“Sure,” Sid said with a grin. “Is that going to cause you hell at work?”

“Yes, but I’m not letting that go on. Especially since a judge recently upheld the restraining order.” She smiled. He smirked back. She swatted him. “I still owe you for making the bad joke this morning.”

“Possibly.” He shrugged. “You swat like a girl so as long as you don’t punch me we’re all good.”

“I can throw a pretty good punch,” she assured him dryly. “I don’t want to right now.” She picked up her lemonade to sip.

“What is *she* doing here!” a male voice shouted.

She looked back. “I’m liaising as ordered by the FBI.” She took another drink. “Why?”

Turner smiled at his guys. “They made her our local profiler, guys. She’ll be headquartered at home and travel in when we need her.” They all nodded. “We hope that there won’t be as many cases that we need a profiler for.”

She snorted. “You have three in the area that I got slipped earlier.” Sid looked at her. “I can make suggestions without having to show up for handholding and walking over things. Usually there’s only something that needs a real profiler in attendance every eight months in any given region. Which means I’m also on call for serial rapists and those sorts.” They all smiled and one called someone. “If that’s going to Vice or SVU, give them my email and have them send me files, pictures, all that, and I’ll get to work on it tonight.” He nodded, repeating that. Sid sent him an IM with her email address. She smiled at him. “So, are you going to your mother’s version of doom?”

“No, he’s still out there and he’s still to guard you,” Turner said. “Unless he pissed you off in some way?”

“No, he was a charming guest,” she said.

“I was going to pick up stuff for dinner on the way to pick you up,” Sid told her.

“That’s fine. We can do it on the way home since I’m down to pasta and hamburger I think.” The fax machine beside them went off so she got up to look. “Hmm.” She read it over, shaking her head. “This is bad. Those are Mycenaean runes.” She frowned, reading it over. “Is that all the file?” The detective on the phone nodded. “That’s strange. Anything from the victims? Anything he said, did, any cleaning rituals?”

“All dead, no living victims yet. They can’t find where. He drops them in a park,” the detective said, handing her the phone. She took it and listened, making notes and asking questions. She hung up and came to get her lemonade and keys, waving as she walked out.

“Call him as soon as you’re done there,” Turner called after her. “I refuse to have that psycho from San Diego get you.”

“I will. Especially since his car’s at my place.”

“We’re a city, we have cabs,” Sid called after her. He looked at Turner. “Did you see that forum?” he asked quietly, getting a head shake. Sid showed him. “So, Commissioner, why the visit?” he asked dryly.

“I do not believe she …..”

“She’s a fully accredited profiler with the FBI,” Turner said firmly, glaring at him. “She was one of our officers as well. So shut up and go away. We have work to do.” The commissioner gaped in horror at him. “I can have someone shoot you.”

“I can use a few days off since my wife’s on bedrest,” one detective said. “And you denied my need for days off.” The commissioner glared back. He stared at him. “How do you expect my wife on bedrest to take care of our toddler?”

“I could’ve sworn you had the flu,” Turner told him.

“So did I but his ass-kissing union rep told me that wouldn’t work.”

“Go home!” Turner ordered with a point. “You have spots. Have someone make sure it’s not measles or chicken pox.” The detective grinned, heading out.

“Toss me his open one,” Sid called. That one’s deskmate tossed it over to him. He looked. “Not too bad. Easily solved.” He stood up. “Peter, you’re driving.” His deskmate got up and followed.

Turner smiled. “I love you guys and how good you are.” He got back to that forum. “Commissioner, we don’t play politics here,” he pointed out patiently. “We’re here to catch people who kill others. We work long hours for low pay and shit benefits.” He looked at his boss. “I don’t care why you decided we needed a personal visit today.”

“That woman…”

“Is an agent with the FBI,” Turner said firmly, glaring at him. “Show her more respect.”

“She’s just like her mother.”

“Her mother never killed anyone,” Turner said with a smug grin. “Her father killed a lot who were killing people. Though we could never prove it. She’s helped anytime anyone’s asked.”

“Sid said her parents are buried up there,” one of the guys said.

“Yeah, the locals gave her father permission to bury her mother under her favorite roses and she sprinkled her father’s ashes over them.” He looked at the Commissioners. “Before you start to plot, he did his work somewhere else. She tried under hypnosis to figure out where and couldn’t. She couldn’t remember the road names. Then again it had been six years.” He stomped off. He texted her to warn her. He hated that man and his plots. “Make sure you tell me if you hear rumors about him going against the unit. He’s dumb enough to try to shut the unit down.” He went back to his office, pulling up that site. He went to clear it off Sid’s computer so no one else could get into it. He closed his office door and called Under-Director Malone to talk to him about what was going on. He seemed to like Sandra and protected her a bit.

to chapter 5

Sandra came out to answer whoever was knocking on her door. “Yes, Under-Director Malone?” She let him inside. “Is this about Dethers and my boss conspiring to force me into a situation where I have to shoot them to protect myself?”

“Yes, it is.” He stared at her. “Are you all right?”

“Well, I had to wing someone breaking in last night,” she admitted. “And the locals were very charming when they came to yell at the kid. I also informed him that he barely missed two bear traps I keep out back.” She smiled. “Apparently it’s a dare to break in now for the stupid jocks.”

“I think each town has a house like that,” he admitted. He stared at her. “They were ordered to stop. A Federal judge upheld the order.”

“And yet, Dethers is presently trapped in the back hedge,” she said dryly.

“I can pick him up.” He smiled. “We adore having you as one of us, Molarn.”

“I like being a profiler, sir. Is that in question?”

“No, we believe you’re a good one. You do the job better than a lot of them do. That you do it with class and style, plus you’re very good as a mentor for younger profilers when you trained last time.” He smiled. “I think your boss is presently regretting his decision since he was given the option of retirement or being demoted.” She beamed at him. “But there’s other issues and there’s a lot of politics.”

“Of course. Politics is the evil we fight every day.”

“Yes it is,” he agreed. “Can you work with Smithers?”

“I can. I have. I find him mentally …unchallenging and very by the book sometimes.”

“It was noted you don’t have an apartment in DC.”

“I’m almost never in DC. I spend most of my year in various motel rooms.”

“That figures. Would you like to move up here? It’s not like you don’t travel all that often.”

She considered it. “Is this the agency’s way of brushing me out of sight?”

“Partially and we need to set up a local profiler. There’s an order from the head people to decentralize the profilers so there’s not as much travel expenses.” She nodded at that. “Which would mean you’d either get the local area or you could come back to DC and fight the others who need to be skinned alive. You have enough seniority to bump someone.”

“I don’t really like blood.”

He grinned. “That’s always a good thing.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Would you rather do that or pick another area?”

“I don’t mind the local office but I’m still a bit far out for commuting.”

“You’d be handling the local offices in this state and two in the next one.” He handed over an envelope. “We were hoping. You’ll also be training up to two newbies.”

She read it over, nodding. “I could like that. How long is this trial going to go on?”

“Two years until the next election and the head director’s changed.” She smiled. “If so, you can get something in town if you need to or centralize yourself from here and travel as necessary or call. There’s been some activity locally I know.”

“That’s one reason why I was up here when that started. Though one wanted me as a wife.”

“I heard. He’s in prison and pouting from what I heard.”

“He had bad taste in flimsy outfits too,” she quipped, cracking him up. “I can gladly have my storage area brought up here and redecorate my room.”

“However you and the local office’s head idiot work it out, Molarn.” He smiled. “Dethers is on his way to jail. I had the agents I drove up with grab him while we talked. He’ll be staying in jail for a while. So quit being so paranoid. He complained to the judge about the pit he ended up in for hours on end.”

“My father hated the Avon ladies trying to warp my mother.”

“Nothing would really surprise me about your parents,” he admitted. “I read his case file back when you joined and I was teaching you profiling.” She smiled. “It’ll be fine. Talk to him to see how he wants to work that. He’ll conference in the other local heads so they can tell you how best to do it.”

“I can do that.”

“Good girl. Have fun up here. If you find anything, let someone handle it for you. You know how best to deal with it.” He left her alone, going back to the city.

She smiled and took her papers into the kitchen to help her make lunch. It was a good compromise and she didn’t have to find a new career. Yet.

***

Sandra walked into the local FBI office the next morning. “So we meet again,” she quipped, smiling at him. “I was told to come see you today to see how you wanted to work things.”

“I talked to Malone,” he admitted, staring at her. “Are you getting a place locally?”

“That’s what we’re talking about. I haven’t had an apartment in years. I’ve spent so much time traveling I lived in a motel room instead when I was in DC.”

He smiled. “I can see that point. We keep you guys hopping.”

She nodded. “I wish it was like on tv where we get the private plane too.” He laughed. “I would’ve loved it with how many times I spent in coach ignoring people.” She walked in. “Have the other offices in my region made any decisions?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. He took the paperwork she handed him to look over. “That’s a wide area for you to cover.”

“All easily driveable within sixteen hours,” she said. “Plus I’m told I get a trainee.” He burst out laughing. “I do fairly good at it,” she said with a smile. “Do we want to talk to the local PD’s as well? Since half of my job is working with them.”

“Yes. We can call that one.” He made notes of all the major departments. “Know anyone locally? I know you were.”

“Captain Turner in Homicide.”

“Good. I’ve worked with him in the past and he was a stand-up guy.” He smiled at her. “Do you want a local office? We’ll have to convert one but we can do that.”

“I think we’ll decide that during the meeting. Half the time I need to be in person, the rest I can telecommute. Of course that means I have to paint my bedroom at home.” She shook that thought off. “It’d definitely give me more time to weed Mother’s garden.”

He smiled. “We’ll see what we can do, Molarn. Where do you want to start today?”

“Let’s have my rookie here locally. That way the local guys don’t have to feel creeped out by me. I know some do.” He nodded, still smiling. “So when they show up, we can get them a desk and I’ll figure mine out.”

“That’ll work. You can come in for cases and they can do rookie things like study old case files?”

“Basically and follow the local homicide department because they have to get used to crime scenes and how disgusting they are.”

“I can arrange that with Turner and the local crime lab.” He smiled. “That could help a lot of rookies of mine too.” He made notes. “I’d love to see rookies who don’t turn green and puke at their first case.”

“Instead they can annoy the locals by puking on them.” She smiled. “I have to say, even I got sick my first time.” He grinned. “So we’re having the meeting when?”

“I’ll plan it for two days. That way you can get anything up here.” She nodded. “They need time to find paper and coffee.”

“I often have that problem.” He snickered. “So anyway, let me know.” She handed over another sheet of paper. “That’s my home address, my cell phone, the home number, and details on my lease car up here. I decided to lease instead since I’ll be in one area for so long.”

“Does the town you live in mind?”

“They all give me dirty looks and some even cross the street. I put up with it.” She shrugged. “All I can really do. Even if I wanted to sell the house I couldn’t get a good price for it because of my parents.”

“That’s a point. There’s that nasty disclosure law.” She nodded. “Well, go paint for a few days and then we’ll see what’s going on. I’ll call the meeting and give you particulars. Can you do text messages?”

“Yes. And video.” She walked off. “Call me when you need me.”

“I can do that.” He smiled at her back. “For having that in her history, she’s really normal,” he told himself. He started the calling around. They needed a lot of coffee for that meeting.

***

Sandra walked past Sid with a grin. “There’s a lot of hell coming.”

“Again?” he demanded, smiling at her. “That bad? And do you have a brother?”

“Half-brother. From before my parents married. His mother hated mine after Dad dumped her. So she suddenly popped up a kid. He’s in jail for beating his wife the last I knew.” Sid’s deskmate held up a folder. She looked at it. “That’s his half-brother and he’s an idiot too.” She handed it over with a grin. “Doesn’t surprise me he beat his wife too.” She looked in the office. “I’m going to ruin your lunch, Turner.”

He came out of the office, staring at her. “You never ruin my lunch, woman.”

She smiled. “The FBI is decentralizing some of the profilers. I’m getting another rookie too.”

“So they’ll be shadowing us to get used to things?” he joked with a smile.

“Yup, and the local office is calling a meeting to plan out how and where you want us.”

“I saw that email. I was wondering.”

She nodded. “That means I have to paint and buy my room a new bed.” He snickered at that, shaking his head. “But I can rehab the garden so it’s better again. There’s weeds between the stones. She’d be horrified.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “So you’re covering just this office?”

“No, I’m covering this state and two in the next state.”

“So within a day’s drive,” Sid said with a grin. “That’s handy and it’ll mean getting you guys sooner.”

“That and fewer travel costs.” They all smiled at her. “So we’re having a meeting to talk about how to do things and when and if my proposed rookie shows up. Because some have given up the program all together to not be my rookie. Apparently I scared some of them into being normal agents. Who knows why they’re so weak.” She smiled. “So, I’ll be more local.” She handed over that same info sheet. “Text and video, Turner. Call if you need me even if I’m somewhere else.” She smiled at the guys. “Or any of the rest of you guys who need help.”

One of them held up a folder. “Just an idea could help please, ma’am?”

“Sandra,” she corrected but she was smiling when she took it to look over. “Family?”

“Dead, long dead.”

She nodded, staring at it. “Boyfriend?” He gaped. “Not straight with that shirt most likely.”

“All right.” He looked it over. “So why kill him?”

“Shame. Outing. One of those two probably. And I’d say he’s uptight, possibly married.” She handed it back. “Find the boyfriend find the killer.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Let me go buy a new bed. There’s no reason for me to continue to sleep on a full size bed if I’m up there all the time.”

“Have fun with that,” Sid called. “Are you getting a pet too?”

“My mother would freak out. She convinced my father that cats being domesticated started evil in this world. That’s what fell the Egyptian empire.” Sid grinned at that, shaking his head. “She was very persuasive when she wanted to be. She always said that was a wife’s job.” She walked off happier.

“Try Bed Emporium. They’re having a sale,” Turner called after her.

“I can do that. Thanks.”

Turner shook his head. “Things are going to get very interesting around here soon.” He went back to his office.

Sid nodded. “It can only help liven up the usual drudge.” The other detectives nodded.

***

Sid walked up to where Sandra was weeding the flagstones in the garden. “If I ask can you resurrect your parents to come kill some higher ups in my department?”

She smiled at him. “I can check my father’s former occult research he used to taunt the occult killers with. What happened?”

“They decided they were going to try to make a whole bunch of older officers retire all at once.”

She stared at him. “You’re joking.”

“It’ll save on the budget,” he mimicked the stern commissioner. “The budget is too tight and the law is already on the books. It’s for the good of the city so we can get a lot of new, younger, more energetic officers who can better get on crime faster.”

“So, discounting all the experience because some may have creaky knees?” she asked.

“Yeah. And the age he quoted down to was fifty-five.”

She considered it. “Isn’t he in that age range?”

“He has a year left. That means about a fifteenth of the force is going to be forcibly retired at the end of this year. Including the head of four major departments.”

“My father would’ve gladly went to lecture him on why that was stupid. Even if you can hire two rookies for every older one, that just means that you have a lot of green officers who make assumptions because they don’t have training. My first year I saw homicides everywhere.”

“I kept seeing a lot of hos who were just club girls,” he admitted, squatting beside her. “I also got told to tell you he hates this idea of the FBI’s. He hates you a lot.”

“He tried to get me kicked out of the academy twice for being human and female.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet of him.” Sid smirked at her.

“He can bite me. A lot.”

“He might enjoy that.”

“I’ll tell Under-Director Malone.” She dusted her hands off. “You drove all the way out here to tell me that?”

“Yup.” He grinned. “And to tell you that Turner said to clean up the house a bit more since he’s pushing to have the house searched for evidence of bodies.”

She shrugged. “They did that twice already.”

“We’ll see.” He stood up and helped her up with a grin. “Now that I’ve warned you, I’m off to listen to my mother’s demands and whining about me not being married.”

“I’m so glad my mother died young. I’ve heard horror stories about that nagging.”

“My mother can be reminded she has three grandchildren from one of my sisters. The other one’s told her when she can knock up her next girlfriend she’ll do it. It quit that complaining.”

“You can always tell her you’re dating a guy.”

“My mother would wail. It’s fine for my sister but my mother would scream and rant at God and then wail. I’d find myself in a church with a priest doing an exorcism and she’s not Catholic.” She giggled, punching him on the arm. “How’s the decorating going?”

“The painting went all right. I got a few drips I had to clean up. The new bed is up there and it’s a nice king size. I have some very nice sheets and I even managed to clean out my mother’s closet.”

“You’re cleaning up their room?”

“I left it alone.” She shrugged. “I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with it.”

“I can understand that. I’ve had that feeling a few times about cleaning out my own closet, much less someone else’s.” He walked her back to the back door. “You be safe. Please? Dethers is out.”

“I know. He’s back in the pit underneath the doormat.”

He looked at her. “How long has he been there?”

She checked her phone’s readout. “Three hours now.” She smiled. “I told the locals. They didn’t seem like caring.”

He laughed. “That’s good to know.” He walked off. “Let me taunt him.”

“Grab him some water from the fridge?”

“I can do that.” He went inside to do that and walked around, flipping up the doormat with his foot. “She called the locals to come get you but apparently they don’t care if you die.” He tossed down the water. “She said you needed that.” He let it fall and walked off. He’d stop in the local office on his way back through. They seemed pretty nice. “Sandra Molarn said that the former agent who’s stalking her is still under the doormat,” he told the desk guy.

He looked at him. “We heard. We figured someone from the federal office is coming to get him?” Sid shook his head with a grin. “Pity.”

“I tossed down some water. She asked me to.” He grinned. “That way you guys can get him sometime.”

“I can tell the bosses. Thank you, Detective.”

“Welcome.” He went back to his car and drove to his mother’s. Which was only an hour away if he headed away from the city.

The desk sergeant went to talk to the head officer. “That former agent’s still under her doormat. The detective who showed up to have dinner with her said that they’re not sending agents to get him.”

He nodded. “That’s fine. We’ll get him after dinner. Maybe it’ll teach him better.”

“He said she had him throw down some water.”

“Even better.” He smiled. “She still home?”

“She said in the bank that she’s being stationed up in this region so she’ll be home more often. There was a delivery truck from a bed place.”

“Wonderful. I’ll warn the scared ones.” He smiled. “We’ll get him after dinner.”

“Okay.” He went to tell the others so they had some strong guys to help him out of the pit.

***

Sandra came out to the door when she saw the lights. “If he whines it’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not yours,” the officers said with a smile. “Is he injured?”

“I don’t know.” She came out and flipped the switch, holding the mat open. “There, that should help.” They smiled and hauled him out. “Aww, you stepped on one of the bear traps. Did you like Mother’s garden?” He was whimpering, trying to get away from her. “The first I knew about him, was the security system telling me he was down there. I called you guys to come and get him hours ago.”

“Yes, ma’am, but we were thinking the agents were going to come get their own.”

“No, they’re disgusted with him since it allowed me to sue the FBI again.” She smiled. “They’re not happy that the judge told them to stop it.” She lounged in the doorway, staring at him. “Did you have help this time?”

“I’ll find evidence that you’re just like your parents!” he shouted, struggling with the officers.

“My mother never killed anyone. Even if she did smack a cop upside the head with a shovel for being an asshole, she never hurt anyone else. My father loved her for that reason.” She smiled. “On the other hand, I’ve only had to shoot people in the line of duty or when someone kidnaped me. And once when someone broke into my room but he forgave me for it.” She stared at him. “You come back again, you won’t make it out of the pit. Because nothing says I have to call the nice local boys. I can call Under-Director Malone and have him send you a rescue team but it could take weeks. That’s what he told me to do this time.” She wiggled her fingers. “Take the hint. Everyone but you has.”

“I know you’re one of them.”

“No, if I was, you’d already be dead,” she pointed out dryly. She saw a car pulling in and waved. “Because I got tired of you *years* ago. I would’ve gotten rid of you back in Alabama the *second* time the group was there. You’re very lucky Malone stopped you because if you had finished that sentence, the others would’ve clapped when I dismembered you. They all offered to help. Malone told them it was against the job policy but each and every one of them came to me and told me if you disappeared into the woods and got eaten they had an alibi for me.” The guy tried to get free. Sid walked over and smacked him on the head. “Why, Detective,” she said dryly with a grin. “Is there a problem?”

“Yup. Satre DeMorales is out.”

She stared at him. “I thought he was going to be put to death.”

“He is. They took him to the ER for his appendix and he got out of the ambulance after killing them with the oxygen canister blowing up.”

“Charming!” she said sarcastically.

“They’ll get you for me,” Dether sneered.

She stared at him. “I doubt it. He didn’t want to kill me, he wanted to marry me.” The local guys all shuddered. “Yeah, he was one of those. It went well with his sexual domination cult. The whole princess lineage,” she said dryly, waving a hand. “Take the deluded one away please.” They nodded. “Do you guys want to check the garden area for me?”

“No,” they said, shaking their heads. A few gave Sid sideways looks.

“I’m not scared of a few bear traps,” he said dryly. She smirked at him. “Turner got called by Malone, who said even if I camped on your doorstep, so be it.”

“Fine. Even though I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will because you now have a very good guard.” He grinned. He got out of the way, letting them cart him off. He followed her back through the house to check the garden for her. She reset the bear trap and he checked all the little nooks and hiding spots. One young guy screamed and ran for the driveway, snapping the other bear trap. Sid waved one of the officers to come back and get him. They did and the kid was crying and sobbing they were mean. “What did you expect? She could’ve electrocuted all of you,” Sid told him.

“But it’s abandoned!” the kid sobbed.

“No, I’ve been working in other areas,” Sandra said dryly. “I never abandoned the house. I probably never will. My mother’s buried here. The city said it was fine.” She smiled.

“I was young but I remember them all going ‘let’s not piss him off’ about that issue,” the officer quipped. He helped the kid limp off. “We’ll make note among the stupid young people.”

“Thank you, Officer.” She helped him reset that bear trap and they went back inside. She let the trap door go again and it was nice again. She looked at Sid. “I’ll be fine.”

“The Under-Director told Turner I was to stay at your feet no matter what. Even if you chained me up and taunted me all night I was to stay with you until they caught him again. I can sleep on the couch so it’s totally proper.”

“I know you’re not going to be debauching me,” she said.

“Only if you ask *really* nicely,” he quipped back. She swatted at him but smirked at him. He grinned back. “It’s only been one date and two lunches. I never debauch before the fifth date, sweetheart.”

She burst out cackling, shaking her head. “There’s a guest room.” She led him that way. “How did the dinner with your mother go?”

“My sister was there complaining about her husband. My mother sent up a prayer when I offered to shoot him again but told me to stop it. My other sister offered too because he was being a douche. My sister complained she needed a new girlfriend so she was less violent. My mother tried to convince her she could have a girly guy so my sister said she had broken two of those and women were sweeter during sex. Both of us agreed and my mother went to bed with a headache for lacking grandchildren. My married sister decided she could give her another one but she’d have to have a daughter and put her in pageants, which both of us warned would get her dead for that stupidity. No way is my niece going to be dressed up like some mini hooker.”

“Some of those mothers are creepy. Have you seen the show about that life on tv?”

“I have, which is where my sister got her idea. That’s why I told her I’d put her out of my niece’s misery before she’s warped into a cheerleader.”

“Eww.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He looked around the guest room. “This is kinda nice.”

She smiled. “It had been the sewing room but that’s my old bed. I can’t sew.”

He smiled. “Neither can I.” She swatted him again, earning a grin back. “I never expected you to be that old-fashioned sort of woman.”

“Me either. I’m much too modern.” She walked off. “I’m going to make some tea and go read in my bedroom, Bodyguard Sid.”

“Just yell if you need me, Sandra.”

“I can do that.” She smirked back at him. “Have a good night.”

“You too. Sweet dreams.”

“If I do that, I’ll have that stupid dream about drowning in a vat of chocolate at Hershey’s factory again.” He cackled, making her blush as she walked off. He stripped down to his pants and undershirt, getting comfortable on the bed. A full size bed was a bit short and narrow for his usual one but that was fine. It was more important that the sicko didn’t come near her.

to chapter 4

Sid watched the Prosecuting Attorney whine at the captain. Clearly he was a crybaby. He saw the frustrated look so got his poor captain some more coffee. “Here, Turner. Looked like you could use the break,” he said as he brought it in to him. “Black, I know you have good sugar in here.”

“Why are you interrupting?” the PA said snidely.

“Because you’re being a douche and he has to sign a guy’s leave paperwork today for his honeymoon. I’m sticking up for my fellow officers.”

Turner added sugar to his coffee. “I told you twice. She’s a profiler with the FBI. She knows what she’s talking about. She has since she was little.”

“There’s no evidence of her ever being on the stand,” he sneered back.

“That’s because you don’t include evidence reports of little kids,” Sid said with a small shrug. “Any trial that got called about her father happened before she was twelve by the records search.” Turner looked at him. “I wondered if they had ever asked her.”

“The last time, they didn’t want to upset her. She had just lost her mother,” Turner told him. “My father worked that trial. He guarded her from her father. They didn’t ask her anything about any of that at any of the trials because you don’t ask a six-year-old if Daddy buried a body in the garden. Back then the DA’s protected kids.”

Sid nodded. “My old man never would’ve even thought to ask her if he was trying to get her dad. Kids aren’t reliable witnesses. It would’ve meant that the defense attorney could’ve tried to rip her to shreds.”

“One of them did ask her something about her father. The judge shot him down and told her not to answer that question,” Turner admitted. “My dad ranted for hours about that trial.” He sipped his coffee. “Beyond that, she’s one of the top profilers the agency has. She’s got all the certifications and classes. That and she can positively ID one because they kidnaped her.”

“Woke me up out of a sound sleep to tell me that,” Sid agreed.

“She’s still a witness risk. With her past there’s no telling what she contaminates by doing. Clearly my predecessors were stupid not to ask her anything, even at her age.”

“Then don’t call her. I’m sure the defense will try,” Turner said with a shrug. “It’ll make your case weaker.” The PA stomped off.

“Clearly douchy to the extreme,” Sid said dryly. “Do we need to warn her?”

“She’s aware it happens. She hardly ever gets called to testify. When she does, the defense usually tries to bring up her father and she gives them a look like they’re roaches and points out it gives her extra knowledge, not less.” Sid smirked. “Beyond that, she’s calming down after whatever fiasco happened in DC. She probably needs it. She never takes a vacation.”

“Think anyone will ever want to check the gardens?” Sid asked quietly.

“Someone tried when she was very young and didn’t find what they were looking for but they ripped up some of her mother’s roses. Her mother nearly took the head off someone. Though if she had been alive, Sandra would’ve had a much more normal teenage years. Her mother probably would’ve encouraged her to go be wild.”

“Possibly.” He went back to his desk. The lovely profiler was still an enigma to him and he hated mysteries. That’s why he was a detective. So maybe he’d call up there or pop around, see if she needed any help. He got done for the day with some forceful paperwork doing and it was easier. He’d have an easier day the next day. As long as no new cases came in.

He looked up where she was from, only an hour outside of town. It was a pretty late afternoon for a drive. He hoped she didn’t mind the company but she had seemed almost lonely to him. Or maybe sad. He found the house easy enough. The locals had put up a sign warning that it was private property and no one should go near there under threat of arrest.

The house was nice. White, two stories, attic, it looked like it had a basement. Wrap around porch around the front and off to the left side. Stone fence like they had in New England. Metal gates across the driveway but it was open. A light blue sedan in the driveway. He could hear birds cackling somewhere and saw a few trees peeking up behind the garage. He walked around that way since there was a flagstone path. He found her in a light tan cotton robe with a hood. He wasn’t sure why but she was weeding in it.

“Mother said that it’d keep the sun off me better and keeps me from getting dirty. Plus it upset my father since he only researched the occult to make fun of it.” Sandra looked up at him. He grinned back. “Nice day for a drive?’ she guessed.

“That and the head PA was throwing a fit about you,” he admitted. He checked a bench by her and sat down. “Don’t you get hot under there?”

“Slightly but it does keep the sun off me so I don’t burn. I had a lot of trouble with that when I was younger. Got sun poisoning one year helping Mother prune the roses.” She shrugged. “It’s habit and if anyone shows up unexpectedly, I walk around and they get scared as crap of me thinking I’m part of a pagan sacrificial cult.”

He grinned. “I need to try that the next time some nosy reporter starts to stalk us about a case.” She smiled back, pushing back the hood. “Your nose is still burned.”

“I know.” She rubbed it, transferring some dirt. “So why else did you drive out here?”

“I wanted to warn you about him, see how you were…..”

She stared at him. “I don’t creep you out at all, do I?”

“No, not at all,” he agreed with a smile. “In fact, all that kinda… for some reason it makes you more interesting than all the cardboard things I usually date.” She beamed at him. “As long as I don’t run into your father’s ghost.”

“Father would’ve hated that.” She shrugged and stood up. “Let me clean up my mess and I’ll make you dinner.”

“Sure, can I help?”

“No. You’re a guest. You can come talk to me.” She cleaned up her weeding mess and carried things inside. “Let me change.” She ran upstairs to take a quick shower and change.

He grinned, looking around the living room. A few pictures. Some faint spots on walls where pictures used to be. A flowered couch so her mother had probably picked it out. Large fireplace. Good for burning papers or incriminating evidence. No wood stacked in it so it might not work any more. Single chair with a small, round table next to it with a lamp. The lamp’s base matched the couch’s flowers and the shade was off-white. The touches of brass and off-white kept the flowers from being too overpowering or girly. She came back down in a dress and with her hair pulled up. “You didn’t have to go to that much trouble,” he offered with a grin, following her to the kitchen. “Your mom’s sitting room?”

“Yes. I never really go into my father’s study. I’m not sure I want to see what I could find.”

“The prosecutor was mad that no one had ever asked you anything on the stand.”

She smiled at him. “They tried to gently probe but I was a bit smarter than they decided I should be. They asked me if my father had ever hurt anyone and I said yes. The judge said that was enough, I was obviously fragile.” She turned back. “Like zucchini?”

“You eat your veggies?” he teased with a smartass grin.

“Yes I do. Have to keep up my strength for getting away from the weird people,” she quipped back, smiling at him.

“Good point. I need to quit living on burgers before I can’t chase them anymore. As long as it’s not mashed?”

“No!” She mock-scowled. “I’d never do that to anyone. Fried is very good for you.” She got what she needed. “Eat fish?”

“Sure, why not. It’s Friday.” She gave him a smirk. “My mother would approve even if she wasn’t Catholic.” She laughed at him and got things ready. “You sure I can’t help? She did teach me how to do some stuff at spoon-whacking point.”

“I’m good.” She smiled. “I miss cooking.”

“I take it your place in DC doesn’t have any plants or a big kitchen?”

“I’m on the road so much I live in a motel most of the time,” she admitted. “I’m only in DC three weeks out of the year usually. I think last year was a record and it was five due to a trial and me needing crutches by wrenching my knee.”

“Chasing a perp?” he guessed.

“Tripping over a homeless guy who thought I was an angel for giving him laced coffee. He was trying to hug me.”

He grinned. “A humanitarian?”

“I try to do one good deed a week in case any evil tendencies start to pop up. Because I nearly called on a demon god to sacrifice a few of my coworkers last month.” She shook her head quickly.

He laughed. “I didn’t think you were pagan.”

“I’m not but they were nagging over some cult’s ways and arguing with me when I had taken the ceremonies down on film. This was after showing the film. The higher ups told them to quit arguing with me. If it was on secret film, it was the way they did things and if they didn’t like it to start their own cult.” She shot him a grin. “Then he told me not to show them what sacrificial rites looked like in the office. I quipped half the people I wanted to shove a knife into the heart of weren’t in the building since it was eight at night. He laughed and walked off. They’re all scared of me now since one of my other, older coworkers heard that quip and warned them.”

“I don’t think you’re scary in the least, Sandra.” She gave him a sweet, gentle smile. “Though if your father’s a ghost, I don’t want to run into him.”

“Me either. He’d be scowling. I haven’t given him grandchildren and he always wanted some to teach himself patience with.” She got back to fixing dinner.

“Turner said your mom once popped a cop who was searching her garden.”

“Oh, yes. Mom was considered more sane but more scary than my father by the locals. The one time they tried to search for a missing person, who my father hadn’t touched but had told them who had, though they never listened, they wanted to search the back garden.” She pointed. “Out near the trees and the hedges. Back then, Mother had some new yellow roses, which Father hated severely, growing in with the hedge. That way no one would dare cross it to break into the house. Which is why my father put up with the roses really.”

She dipped the now sliced zucchini in the flour she had seasoned then the egg wash then the flour again before putting it into the pan she had waiting. “Mother decided that they were going to rip up her roses, and they were *so* sure that the body was buried under the hedge. Because my father wasn’t like that but they never cared. The local’s aren’t really great cops. And they hate that I went to the academy and then became a profiler. Only one saw the cosmic joke on my father with that move.”

She dredged and dipped a few more then set them to frying. She put things up and cleaned her hands, then started on some ground pork. “My mother was about three inches shorter than I am. But she took one’s shovel from him and beat him upside the head. One good thwack and then Father went out to stop her and walk her off. He pointed out again who had done it and where they liked to work. There was a new officer in the department who asked how he knew that. Dad kindly said he was on his to-do list because he was annoying.”

“Too many predators in a small area?” Sid guessed.

“Dad never hunted around here. He had a few different areas he hunted in. Including people who annoyed him in the news stories and things.” She shrugged. “The new officer decided to look into that tip after he heard who and what my father was. Turns out Dad was right again. They arrested him and Mother got forgiven for concussing the officer with the shovel.”

“Did he ever bury anyone here?”

“Mother’s out by her favorite roses but he got permission for that.” She smiled. “I don’t think the city really wanted to piss Mom or Dad off and gave him permission to bury her under her roses.”

He grinned. “At least you can talk to her. It’s more tangible than talking to a headstone.”

She nodded. “It is. Dad got scattered overtop of them, like he wanted. His autopsy got all the ME’s in New York and a few other bigger ones in to look at his brain. They all wanted scans and tissue samples. A few even asked if I’d let them CT mine to compare against his.”

He grinned. “I find you pretty normal considering all that. Most of the other kids of killers you see keep going ‘I don’t know why daddy did it’ and things.”

“A lot of them take a lot of therapy. I got some now and then. Dad actually listened when I made logical arguments. I was his princess.” She looked at him. “If I made a good enough plea he’d let me get away with it.”

“Most parents do listen to pleas. Even mine did when I was a snot nosed little kid and wanted stuff.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Then I learned the beauty of the paper route, which gave me money for all the candy I wanted without having to ask and they couldn’t say I couldn’t buy anything I wanted with it because they always told me ‘you can decide what you buy when you make the money’.”

She giggled. “No teaching you to use a piggy bank?”

“No. I had one but half of my earnings all went into the local candy store. He hated it when I grew out of my buggle gum and comic book addictions. I swear he held a wake for my childhood.” She giggled and swatted him, flipping over the zucchini and the ground pork in their pans. “You sure I can’t help?”

“You’re a guest and my mother would instantly descend from wherever she is to nag me about my lack of manners and needing grandchildren.”

“That would be a crime,” he agreed. “Nagging about grandchildren is a horrible fate.” Something outside banged loudly and his hand went to his gun while he looked outside. She considered it, looking up. “Shed?” he guessed.

“No but I’m betting that was someone tripping over the hedge.” She looked at the alarm beside the door. “Yup, out by the hedge.” She grabbed her gun and turned down the pans, following him out. “Aww,” she said, staring at the guy. “Are you trespassing?”

“I believe you are,” Sid said, hauling him up. He cuffed him and patted him down. “No wallet.”

She looked and plucked it out of the bushes. “Mother’s roses always liked wallets and money. Dad once lost over a thousands bucks to the hedge. Mom thought it made great, long lasting fertilizer. Unfortunately he had pissed her off by playing and winning that money at poker.” She nodded and made sure nothing else was there, following him back inside. She called. “This is FBI Agent Sandra Molarn. We just had someone trip over Mother’s hedge. His wallet said he’s some guy from Long Island.”

She put it down. “Yes, I’m at home,” she said dryly. “I’m here with a detective I worked with recently, making him dinner.” She moved to check the pans, stirring the pork and taking out the zucchini while the phone rested between her chin and shoulder. “Well, I can go tie him to the fence if you people are that scared of FBI agents,” she said dryly. Sid was snickering. She smiled and nodded.

“Yes, they’re still scared that one of my parents is out here and they’re both dead. So apparently I’m now the scary one. I don’t even have a shovel. That’d be wonderful, thank you. Sure, we can bring him out there. Thank you.” She hung up. She checked, then rolled her eyes. “Please!” she shouted. Sid was snickering now. “I swear they think he’s haunting. It’s insane anytime someone tries anything.” She turned off the pans, stirred some herbs into the pork, and washed her hands so she could walk him off. “C’mon, Junior. I promised I’d bring you outside for the scaredy sheriff.” Sid followed. “I can….”

“I know you can. Still better if he doesn’t try to run. You’d break an ankle in those shoes.” He grabbed the wallet, giving the guy a look. “So you want to tell us why you broke in?”

“It’s said this place is haunted.”

“No, my parents both died long ago,” she said impatiently. “If not, my parents would’ve shown up by now to nag about me never getting to date thanks to them being a bit scary.”

Sid grinned. “Every time you say that, I keep seeing you in Morticia Addam’s dress and I can’t quite see it.” She burst out cackling and punched him on the arm, shaking her head. The sheriff was giving them an odd look. “Even the biggest bad guys can seem very normal.”

“Dad did. It took them over a decade to realize he was a serial killer.” The guy gave her a horrified look. “Yes, and I’m a profiler.” She smirked. She handed him over. “He thought the house was haunted.”

“So does half the town,” the sheriff admitted. “Fellow agent?”

“Detective. I worked with her recently.” He grinned. She pinched him on the arm. He grinned at the Sheriff again. “He tripped over the hedge.”

“Some of the local kids say that it moves to eat them.”

“Only wallets. The thing loves to use money as fertilizer,” Sandra said with a small shrug. She turned and walked off. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

“Welcome, Agent Molarn.” He looked at Sid.

Sid grinned. “She’s a really nice lady. You should get to know her as an agent and a person, not for her daddy’s little girl.” He walked back there. “Are you sure I can’t help you cook something? I feel like a mooch.” He shut the front door. She was still snickering in the kitchen. “I told him he should get to know you as an agent instead of your father’s daughter.” He smiled at her dirty look. “He should. You’re a good agent, a good profiler, and a good woman.”

“You don’t know me that well,” she quipped. “I could be an evil bitch.”

“You could be, yes, but detective instincts say that you’re not. If you were some cult member sacrificing people I’d worry about dinner. I don’t think I can be a cannibal.” She stared at him oddly. He smiled. “What?”

“I….”

He came over and grabbed a knife. “As long as it’s not your kindergarten teacher, want some tomatoes for the pork?”

“That’ll work,” she decided, letting him do that. It was flustering her. He started on a totally true, very funny story about a recent perp who managed to get caught because he had left his pants in the house he had been robbing. She relaxed and laughed, liking this new friend thing they had going. She could really appreciate that. It was odd but comforting in a few ways she wasn’t used to. Even when he went home, she was feeling a little bit weird. She went up to her room and settled in.

***

Sandra walked into the prosecutor’s office, staring at the judge in there. “Your Honor.”

“Agent Molarn?” he guessed.

“Yes, sir.” She shook his hand. “This is an unusual conference. Usually I only see you judges in chambers or the courtroom.” She sat down. “So why call this meeting?”

“How long have you been a profiler?” the judge asked.

“I became a profiler a decade ago when I graduated my first certification class. That was after four years as a local officer in the 32nd and my Masters in psychology.”

“So you’re a fully trained profile,” the judge said, glaring at the prosecutor.

“Yes. I am. Though he has stated a distaste for my heritage in front of others I know.”

“Why?” the judge asked.

She looked at him. “Because your uncle once saw me in his courtroom and refused to let the prosecutor at the time ask where my father buried his bodies.”

“Oh,” he said. “So you’ve got family history of homicide?”

“No, my father was a full serial killer,” she said with a smile. “It’s one reason why I make such a good profiler. I’ve known about them for years.”

He smiled. “I can see that being something helpful in your line of work.”

She smiled. “He’s not the first prosecutor who seems to think that I have a hereditary-mandated need to kill attorneys, Your Honor. It’s amazing how often I don’t have to testify. It’s simply a problem for me because he told others I’m obviously evil from birth. The last I knew, the judicial system hadn’t taken with the idea that blood tells.”

“No, it’s never been a consideration,” he said. He looked at the attorney. “You have no reasonable excuse not to call her.”

She pushed her hair back. “I take it the defense attorney was going to call me and he’s protesting?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll try to be charming, erudite, and professional if we’re talking about the serial killing family I helped stop. Especially since one of them kidnaped me. Apparently he thought me suitable as a wife.”

“No one who wasn’t sick like that would,” the prosecutor said.

She stared at him. “No matter how much venom you spew, I got worse in elementary school,” she said dryly. “You’re pathetic and your fear is making you even more pathetic than usual. You should really spare your family the shame and jump off somewhere high before however many mistresses you have show up in the press because you ignore them too much.” The judge cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I doubt his wife left the lipstick mark on his neck, or the hickey. Unless he married someone very young, hickeys aren’t usually done by women his age.”

“No, they don’t usually,” the judge agreed.

“He might also want to find some concealer for that scratch and slap mark, because he did a bad job covering it. I doubt his wife wants to see that either.” She stood up. “Do I need to find my summons?”

“Are you local?” the judge asked.

“I’ve been weeding my mother’s garden because I told my boss at the FBI to quit acting like satanists were taking over his soul inch by inch. DC is mired by people like him and he’s letting a former coworker stalk me again. He’s ignoring a court order to stop it. Two of them.” She smiled and wrote down her address. “I’ve been up there.”

“That’s fine. I’ll make sure you get your summons, young lady,” the judge said. She smiled and nodded politely then left. “She seems charming.”

“So did Charles Manson,” the prosecutor sneered.

The judge looked at him. “You’re just mad because she’s a woman and better than you are. Grow up.” He got up and walked off. The defense attorney would be happy. So would the head prosecutor for the city.

Sandra showed up at Sid’s desk, seeing the frustrated look. “Bad day?”

He looked up and blinked a few times. “You left the roses?”

“The prosecutor thinks I’m the next cult killer. He was trying to convince the judge.” She rolled her eyes. “I was wondering if you had time for lunch.”

“I don’t for about an hour because I’m going to throw this folder at Turner for cursing me with the case,” he said. “In about an hour I’ll need to get out and get some air.”

She looked over his arm. “The wife?”

“She was killed a few days earlier in Mexico.”

“Ah. Drugs?”

“No, no sign.”

She pointed. “That’s a drug gang, Sid.”

He looked then at her. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. They’re not huge yet but they’ve been working in Texas. I got called in to see if we could target the gang easier and better.”

He grinned. “Think one was a mule?”

“I think, and they have done this before, that they like to hold a hostage and then make their loved ones carry drugs for them. And if they have to cut the drugs out of them, so be it.” He moaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “They’ve targeted couples before but not usually ones with children.”

“They were on a second honeymoon. The kids were with his sister.”

“That makes more sense. Was he cut open to get them out?”

“No, just his throat.”

She looked. “If it wasn’t them, then I’d say it was someone who found out.” He looked at her. “Usually they’d wait to kill the wife because he could go to the police and tell them.”

“Huh.” He looked. “So her sister…. who is a well known anti-drug person…” He smiled at her. “Sure, let’s do lunch.” She grinned and he grabbed his jacket, taking her. “Chinese or real food? That’s about all that’s around here outside the hotdog cart.”

“I miss hot pretzels some days. Auntie Anne’s?” she suggested with a point once they got outside.

“Good with me,” he decided, walking her that way. They could walk around a bit and sip lemonade while eating good pretzels.

Turner came out of his office, staring at his desk. “Did she give him help?”

“Yup,” Sid’s deskmate said. “Something about drug gangs in Mexico.”

“Interesting. Tell her I want to know how the whiny snot’s ploy went.”

“She only said the prosecutor thought she was the next serial cult killer.”

“With him…. I’m not so sure she won’t find something wrong with him some day.” Turner went back to his office. “Tell her I want to know.”

“I will.” When they came back happy he smiled. “Turner said he wanted a sit rep on the prosecutor.”

“Of course he does. He’s very protective of me,” she said with a smile. “I nearly shot him once because of that. He was stalking me on an assignment for someone else.” She shrugged. The other officer stared at her oddly. “I didn’t realize it was him, all I knew was someone broke into my hotel room.” She walked that way, sipping her lemonade. “He did try,” she said from the doorway. “The judge told him to shut up. I noted that his mistresses were going to go public with the way she had scratched and slapped him.” She took another drink. “Plus that I was certain she was younger thanks to the hickey he had.” Turner gave her an odd look. “He went elementary school. Said I’d only draw sick people like that.”

“I’m going to make sure he gets tickets every time he gets into his car,” Turner muttered. “His wife can use that when she divorces him.” She smiled, taking another drink. He gave her a pointed look. She rolled her eyes. “Why is your boss telling your former coworker to stalk you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve noted that to the head of the FBI through my attorney. Since there’s a judicial order to make him stop it.” She finished her lemonade and tossed it out. “I’m fairly certain that he’s going to stop before I have to hurt him but I’m waiting to hear. I’m officially taking vacation time for personal reasons.”

“Do you need someone to back you up?” he asked more quietly.

“Well, if you see him violating the restraining order, you go right ahead,” she said with a smirk. “Though today he’s broken into the house and fell into Father’s trap for stupid people selling Avon and things. The security system is *wonderful*.” She winked. “I’ll go let him out later.”

“Are you certain you don’t need backup?”

“No, I’m having him arrested. He’s not an agent. He’s trying to break into a private residence. He’s been stalking me and there’s a restraining order.” She smiled. “I’m sure someone will be very happy with him.” She walked off. “Nice to see you again, Sid. Have a better case.”

“Thanks, Sandra, and let me know if I can help with that dirtbag who tried to follow you earlier.”

She turned to stare at him. “He’s still trapped under the front doormat.”

Sid smirked, shaking his head. “Redheaded idiot looking guy?”

“Huh. I didn’t spot him. I must be out of practice.” She smiled. “I’ll watch out for him.” She went down to get a cab, letting the desk guy call for her. She went to the local FBI office, finding that redhead there. “Hmm, the detective said you were stalking me,” she said as she walked into the office. The head guy jumped. “Problems?”

“Agent Molarn,” he said, staring at her.

“Yes I am. By the way, Former Agent Dethers is underneath my doormat at home. It was my father’s trap for people selling Avon and things. Just a pit trap.”

“Good to know.”

“I’ve already told someone higher up that things like that had been happening again since I had a court order making him stop it,” she said genteelly. “So why are you following in his footsteps?”

“Someone told us you showed up to visit the bodies at your family home.”

“My father did bury my mother up there, but he did have city permission. She’s under her favorite roses.”

The head of the local office stared at her. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” She smiled, leaning against the door. “He got city permission to bury her at the house. They didn’t really want to tell him no.”

“The other bodies?”

“I never asked. He only brought me along a few times and I stayed in the car.” She shrugged. “No one asked me when I was twelve.”

“Good point. What if they ask you now?”

“I have no idea. I know it’s somewhere to the east. I remember taking Pictern’s Road for what seemed like hours to my pre-teen self. Other than that, I don’t remember anything. I tried when I was in the academy under hypnosis and they couldn’t bring anything out.” She smiled. “As for the accusation that I’m upholding the family legacy whenever I go home to weed my mother’s roses, I’ve only had to fire in the line of duty and to protect myself from someone who thought my lineage was wonderful for their own destiny. And once when my superior office was checking on me and broke into my hotel room but I wasn’t aware it was him.”

He nodded once. “So all the rumors….”

“If I *really* wanted to kill people, there’s a few higher ups I’d start by skinning for annoying me to frustration,” she said dryly. “I’ve said a few times that even if anarchists took over the head office, they’d do it better.”

He nodded. “I’ve had that feeling.”

She smiled at the other agent. “Did you find anything strange?”

“No, ma’am. Who was that detective?”

“Sid Steinway. I helped with a serial killer plaguing his unit recently and he’s very nice. We’ve eaten together a few times. He even saved me when one of them decided I should be his Godly ordained wife.”

The head guy winced. “That’s bad.”

“No one really likes to back me up,” she said dryly. “Did you want Former Agent Dethers?”

“Yes, I would. How far out is your family home?”

“Just over an hour.” She smiled. “Yes, even the locals hate coming to the house. For some reason they think my father’s haunting or something.” He smiled. “I’m very realistic that a lot of you are scared that blood will someday tell but blood is not what I want to be covered in. Father did offer to teach me and I refused because blood isn’t really something I like to play with. Or else I would’ve went to medical school.” That got a brighter smile from both men. “I’m going home now. Would you like to follow me?”

“Please,” he agreed, following her out. “This restraining order?” She pulled a copy out of her bag to let him see it. “Yes, he’s in violation then.” He let her take it back and they drove out there in their separate cars. She opened the trap door, staring down at him. He looked down there. “Was he a profiler?”

“Yes he was. Which is why he’s an idiot. If I haven’t started to kill by now, starting with him, I doubt it’ll happen anytime soon.” She stared at him. “You’re not an agent. You didn’t have a warrant.”

“I got put back on for a special assignment,” he said.

“I doubt that. But thank you for letting me sue the agency again.” She smiled. Dethers growled and glared. “There’s a handhold there in the wall or you can haul him up,” she told the local FBI head guy. “I don’t really care. He could die down there for all I really care. I’d probably feel safer when I’m not being stalked.” She opened the door and walked inside, shutting it. “Have a better day,” she called as she locked it.

“You have a warrant?” he demanded. Dethers glared at him. “I can leave you down there.” He saw a cop car pulling his way and waved him down. “I need some extra muscle to pull a former agent who got fired for stalking out of the pit.”

The officer got out and came over to look. “My mother got caught in that once. He hated that she sold Avon and convinced his wife to wear perfume that he said stunk.” They hauled him out and the officer arrested him. “Are you taking him, sir? I’m assuming you’re a detective?”

“FBI. Local office.” He held up his credentials. The officer nodded and smiled at him. “I’ll change out to zip ties once we get him to my car.” He walked him that way and changed them out. “Thank you, Officer.”

“Sandra was always a really nice girl but everyone in town knew that her dad was pure evil. So none of us made friends or anything. Figures she went FBI profiler. She can probably spot them faster than anyone else.”

“I’ve heard it said she’s a very good profiler,” the head guy agreed. He got Dethers into his back seat and smiled. “Thank you for your help.”

“Not a problem, sir. We’d rather we didn’t have gawkers. There’s no telling what she might pull out if someone *forces* her to be evil. Her mother was worse than her father in some ways.” He went back to his car, calling that in and heading back on his route.

The FBI head got them back to the city and the office, taking him to interrogation to talk to him some more. The idiot Dethers really needed sense. He also called the main office and left a message for the liaison director he sent cases to. They’d get back in the morning since it was so late.

to chapter 3

Conversations around tall tables and beers always seemed to focus on the rumors of things to come. Findstrum heard from Kilpatrick that the student score was raised to 115, Heyward would say. Damn, how well I ever get assigned with the Red Razors now, Pomph would say. Every meeting became more and more identical to Breen so much so that he now concluded the lives of his group of classmates was ruled by nothing but rumors. Their perfectionism dictated that they must plan ahead for the future, but that perfectionism brought on unnecessary feelings of worry and paranoia. That was no way Breen wanted to live his life while on the base.

Breen walked along the polished white marble deck towards the outer railing by the bay, the tapping of his heels easily masking the fan’s hum. He stopped and focused his concentration on that hum, his ears passively listening for any sign of them. With each deep breath he took, the closer those hums began to sound again. With every exhale, the worried voices of his friends vanished deeper back into the club. After a few minutes he could only hear the hum and his beating heart. Breen smiled at his reacquired state of equilibrium. It was a perfected talent he knew would serve him well in the future.

The bay sat perfectly still with the wave generators turned off. Breen thought the bay worked better as a large reflecting pool rather than an artificial body of water employed to bring the comforts of Earth up to the base. He saw straight through the illusion whenever it was running. There were plenty of other things around the base to remind him that he was far from home. It was his personal belief to embrace the base for what it was worth rather than disguise it as something it is not. Others thought differently, of course.

Reflected on the pool was the sun quietly fading behind the Earth. Breen looked at his watch and noticed that he timed his break perfectly. Earth’s clouds, mountains, and other geological features were almost undistinguishable as night fell over the planet. Then, within a couple of minutes, the sun disappeared behind the Earth leaving only leaving a thin, light blue halo circling a perfect pitch black circle. This was Breen’s favorite part.

Faint pinpricks of light all around the black circle started emerging from unknown depths as if someone was gradually turning a dial. At the same time the blue ring around the Earth grew wider, brighter as if it was beginning to stretch across the surface. The black circle suspended in the middle of the sky soon began being illuminated with an electric blue until the only regions in black were the continents of earth. The shores lit up in a bright pink and gradually, much like the stars before, crisscrossing grids of city lights sprawled across the black lands like strings of pearls.

Breen recognized this as possibly the best light show anywhere in the system. For him, being able to view the Earth from this perspective—as an outsider detached from his home—allowed him to appreciate the big picture. Here, surrounded by all the artificiality of the base and his classmates, he was able to take in what really was at stake. It wasn’t his career, or his ego, or any contrived sense of glory, but the opportunity to go back to his home as a stronger person. More importantly, his suffering on the base would lead to the opportunity to defend his world.

This originally came to me back in February before I started API. I was at some cocktail party/mixer with a bunch of strangers and mingling with them wasn’t going very smooth. To my surprise I noticed that the house I was originally at had some how floated up into space right above a very vivid nightscape of the Earth. The oceans were bright blue, kind of like a pool lit up at night. The shorelines were this bright red-purplish color, and the land was pitch black save for the cities. I woke up with that image of the still burned into my retina and jotted down some notes of it.

As for this story, it’s only there mainly for that vision of Earth. I wanted to have the context of a cocktail party, but didn’t know how to tie the image into it. Instead I fixed up a sort of student on a base in space or on a moon of some sort looking back down on Earth as he’s trying to get away from the rumors his friends keep talking about. That aspect simply comes from being in flight school, being surrounded by an odd culture that feels artificial at times (are these guys for real?), and having friends who are in the same boat as I am in–being transplanted from our homes to an area of the United States that feels remote and cut off from the rest of the world, the Gulf Shore.

As for the non-stop rumors, that’s not all true. Some people talk non-stop about rumors they hear concerning stages of flight school and other flight school related things, some don’t. Personally I can’t stand when the conversation only deals with the Navy, it makes me feel as if I have no life outside of training–that adds to this feeling of isolation out here. I need to be around people who talk about things outside of the Navy and have a life outside of it. Makes me feel sane and less isolated.

Anyway, regarding the story, I don’t see any plans for a story about some sort of space flight school in the works anytime soon. I do see that description of the Earth reappearing sometime in some other story, but maybe as a description for another planet. We’ll see.

They all stared at her. The captain of the unit came out of his office, smiling at her. “Sandra, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Captain Turner.” She shook his hand. “What have you got for me this time?”

“I think we have a serial that’s spanned a few areas and decades, with some suspicious gaps but we can’t correlate anything to the gaps.”

“Hmm, sounds intriguing, tell me more.” She followed him to the area they had set up just for these cases. She looked them over. “Already seeing a problem. These four,” she said, pointing at them. “Were solved last year in Alabama by the Slingshot Killer guy.” He smiled and took them down. “And that one was one of the Sunny Side ones.” He took that down. “Zodiac’s.” He removed that. “Other than that…. we have two different signatures. Are we sure we don’t have two?”

“The same fingerprints.”

“That could just be the clean up guy or a watcher,” she said. “Anything else that links them?”

“Two intriguing things.” He handed over those two reports. “The same weapon and the same four DNA profiles.”

“Four?”

“We do believe we have a stager or a clean up person and we think we have someone conducting.”

She smirked. “I love you for giving me this.”

He grinned back. “If I wasn’t married.”

“Yes, if we all weren’t married to the job,” she said dryly. He walked off laughing. “Case files?”

“Whole things, right underneath there.”

“Thank you.” She commandeered the work table, staring at the display before her. Something was clearly off about this already but she wasn’t sure what. She got into the case files, making notes.

“So, what sort of training do you have to have to be a profiler?” one of the detectives asked as he walked over.

“For me, I have a Masters in Psychology and a lot of training at the head geek agency.” She smiled at him. “That was after ten years up here. Turner used to be the sergeant over my unit.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I got tired of the stale coffee and the donut jokes so I went to college when I got injured.”

He stared at her. “That means you were in the 32nd.”

“I was.” She smirked.

“So that means you know that one lady they had that had ties to some really bad shit?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda her.” He looked stunned. She smirked. “I got a lot of training before the training because my father was *so* much worse than all this.”

He stared at her. “Seriously?” he squeaked. She nodded. “Why?”

She laughed. “Because it amused the hell out of him.”

“Huh. So you…. You actually know a serial killer.”

“Yeah, I actually got raised by him after he killed my mother. And about ten stepmothers.” He gaped. She nodded. “I learned real well what these things should look like. And then I went to college to learn about lesser ones and their inadequate plans.” He shuddered. “It happens. There’s plenty of us who can claim it. Most of us just need a lot of therapy.”

“Wow. Yeah, I’d guess they would,” he admitted. “What do you think about ours so far?”

“I think… I’m thinking it’s a father, two sons doing, and the inadequate son who likes the bodies a bit too much cleaning up.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” She let him see what she was building and stunned him completely. She smiled when the captain came back over. “You’ve got a family.”

“I figured I did but why?”

“Training.” She pointed at the earlier ones. “You’re probably missing a victim that he decided was worthy.” Turner moaned. “So, his sons are probably about sixteen at the youngest. I’m thinking three and one didn’t get the same vision or the same drive. He likes the blood or the bodies. Maybe he turned goth. Maybe not. Not totally sure yet. But he’s not the weak one. He’s been ridden about things for years. Or if it’s holy in orientation then he was the unwanted and unwelcome one.” She pointed. “That single body fifteen years ago? I’m guessing that’s the mom.”

He looked and nodded. “I wondered about that. So the gaps….”

“He had to get it out. And then this new spree is teaching them the anointed ways. Probably since they became men by proving they had it. Maybe with an animal kill. Maybe with a local kill they shared. It’s not up there. There’s nothing up there that’s not scripted, plotted, planned, and has an plan.”

“So…. will one of them break?” the detective asked.

“Yes. Whichever one wasn’t fully ready at first. The late bloomer, the one who could’ve been the spare but he finally got it and the other son went wrong. Or maybe that’s the girl. He might be.”

“So how long?” Turner asked. He sipped his coffee.

“Until they’re stopped. It’s a mandate now. The sons are ready. The ritual trio is preserved. They’re working up to trios. He’s still doing some rudimentary training in methodology. That’s why there’s subtle differences. I’m guessing the differing ones were his version of the Higher Power that told him to do these things telling him to wait until they were a trio and ready.”

“Okay,” Turner said. “Can we find something to help us find them?”

“Why move up here?” the detective asked.

“Who’s going to miss a few people in a city of millions?” she asked. “That’s why you guys get a lot of serials up here.”

He nodded at that. “Good point. There’s a lot of people I wouldn’t miss if they disappeared. But these guys are picking the young.”

“Who club. Who go out in singles or pairs. Who just go out.” She pointed at one. “Where was their common hunting ground?”

“A few coffee shops. One club but she was the fastest killed.”

“She was probably one of the kids’ picks and the father found her highly unworthy. I’m guessing the wife was a virgin, a modest one that got drawn into wherever by her friends and they noticed it. That she was probably not totally scared but still deferential. I’m also guessing her daddy was a bit pushy. Maybe hardass military? Maybe someone that the positive side of abusive. He’s real strict probably and all the boys were scared of her.”

Turner nodded. “That single body’s father was a former sharp shooter in the Marines. She did not get permission to go out on dates until she was eighteen and proved she could shoot.” Sandra smiled at him. “He did say he expected her to be a virgin until she married and was when she got taken. The fact she wasn’t when she was found had him growling about needing his rifle for not marrying her properly and what a coward he was. Used some racial slurs.”

“I can’t tell you race,” she admitted. “I’m betting they’re not Asian of any pedigree. I’m betting they’re probably not native African because if they were killing they’d be killing in a different manner. I’m going to say they’re probably not Islamic because again, different manner of killing.” She pushed her hair bac k behind her ears again. “I’m also going to say that they’re probably not upper European. Not Swedes or Danes, because they’re more likely to hunt or have hunting in their family background than say someone British would since most of the immigrants from England weren’t country kids. Most of the ones from the upper parts of Europe were more likely to be country kids with no job prospects.”

The detective grinned. “So he’s probably white?”

“We’ve seen a lot of African-Americans coming up with the same problems. They’re highly religious too. Though if you think they’re undereducated they are probably white. Most of the religious zealots among the African-American community are Baptists not hardline ‘it’s written that way for a reason’ sorts. I can’t conclusively rule it out but I can say it’s not as likely.”

“Not as likely means that we can probably all but rule it out,” Turner decided. “Will they be hunting together?”

“Dad’s still training. So we’re looking at them hunting with him subtly observing. The fourth one, the clean up kid, bothers me. He could be hunting on his own since Dad probably doesn’t have him on a tight leash. He might’ve even been in the clubs a few times.”

“So we might get him there and then the others by tracing him back.” He went to talk to the others.

Sandra smiled at her helper. “So you’re….”

“Sorry, Detective Sid Steinway.” He shook her hand with a grin.

“Sandra Molarn.” She grinned. “Yes, my mother’s name. It’s easier.”

“I guess the guys at the academy would’ve had fits.”

“You have no idea. Actually, Dad had a fit.”

“He was alive then?”

“Yeah, he was alive until about ten years ago.” She smirked. “I got told it was wrong to go to his funeral. So I told my former boss off and got the head of the FBI to fire him. They didn’t understand either but it’s in the books, I was allowed to go. So he had to do his own paperwork and I got to do more freelance work because I creeped people out.”

Sid grinned. “Better for you anyway. They would’ve infected you.”

“Probably, yeah.” She looked over at the briefing. “The youngest is probably someone that seems slightly off. He may be trying to be goth and be too whitebread. He may be trying to be a redneck and seem too hunter. If he’s playing to not draw attention to himself, it’ll just seem off.”

“The father?”

“He’ll seem like a stern, probably toward religious, guy. The ‘word is the word’ sort. And you’ll know. You’ll see it when you stare at him. Guys like him, it’s in the eyes.” They all nodded. “The sons are still in training but past the making major mistakes stage. If they find the right sort of woman, it’ll be a wife and they’ll pull back.” The other detectives all nodded.

“What if they only find one son a wife?” Sid asked.

“Then it’s possible Dad will help him search and keep the other son’s hand in now and then, but not full time. After all, you have to be home to gentle a wife into your way of thinking. Can’t brainwash her long distance. But that’s a good question.” He grinned. “They might just hold her until they can find another one.”

“Why don’t they look places like church meetings?”

“Because those are more social and smaller,” Turner said. “If you get a teen’s church group together, you won’t find more than fifty kids. One going missing would create a stink.”

Sandra nodded. “It would and that’s not what they’re hoping for. They’re hoping to find the Virgin among the Harlots. That way they know she’s their sort and meant to be theirs.”

“So we do think it’s religious?” Turner asked.

“I think they think there’s a higher reason for them to do it. I’m not sure if they’re being called to the duty by someone or not.”

“So it’s possible they’re like a cult and it’s possible they’re breeding true believers and someday will be a cult,” Sid said.

“One way of looking at it, yeah.”

“Well, there’s lots of predators.”

“Yes but most of the predators up here are doing it for money, for desire, for greed. Not for more pure reasons. You ask a dealer why he killed a girlfriend and he’ll say ‘she was a ho’. Or ‘she’s mine to do that to’. You ask these guys and you’ll get a simple answer of ‘because I’m supposed to’ or ‘because that’s the way it must be’. That sort of answer. Though, not the fourth one. Clean up kid won’t be that sort. He’ll believe but it won’t be his total way and reason.”

They nodded and made notes, going to talk to their contacts in town.

She looked at Turner. “I’ll be at a hotel for the next four days. Call me if you need me.”

Turner stared at her. “Are you going for the anniversary?”

“No. I might go weed my mother’s garden though.” She stood up. “Father would crap bats.” Sid snickered at that saying. “He would.” She walked out. “Let me go catch a nap. I flew in from Alabama earlier.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome. Call me if you need more of my wisdom.” Detective Steinway walked her down to get her a cab, earning a smile. “Thank you, gallant detective.” She got in and ordered him to the hotel, letting him drop her off.

Steinway went back upstairs. “I would’ve expected her to be more …creepy or something,” he told Turner.

“She has her moments. Her father put her in self-defense pretty young but she doesn’t keep up with it. Almost everyone knows about her father and half the weirdos respect her for being his spawn.” He looked at him. “Her father is a special topics class at Quantico’s profiling classes. You take that or cults. She took it and laughed, correcting the instructor, until he demanded to now how she knew. So she introduced herself. He apparently went to cry because he missed catching her father twice.”

“Some of them are thumbsuckers.”

“Yes, but he’s one of the top profilers.”

“What did he die of?”

“Old age and liver failure. The ME said he caught Hepatis off a new stepmother.” He went back to his office. “Sandra’s a nice girl but she’s hell on the nerves, Steinway. But she could always use more friends that don’t look at her oddly for who sired her.” He closed his door.

“I just think she’s really smart and I could learn from her,” he admitted, going back to his desk.

***

Sandra looked up from her lunch the next day, smiling at Steinway. “Good news since you’re smiling?”

“Slightly good news. You’re right, we caught the last one.” He sat down, glancing around. He stared at one over her shoulder then at her. She shrugged slightly. “Do they always send a minder after you?”

“No. He got fired for thinking I’d turn out the same way or finish my father’s research.” She sipped her iced tea. “There’s a restraining order but I’m feeling generous today.” Sid smirked at her. He was a slightly handsome man. Dark hair, little bit darker than hers. Green eyes. Pale complexion and clearly too much coffee by the bloodshot look in his eyes. Generous mouth and that usually spoke well of men’s character. A bit taller than she was. Nothing she’d want to brag about in Penthouse but nice enough she supposed. “Did we find anything?”

“Two things.” He looked around again. She stared at him. “Sorry, finely honed senses,” he said dryly.

She kicked him under the table and pointed. He glanced and she nodded. “Huh.” He smirked at her. “Turner wanted to update you later and you weren’t in your room. The hotel was downright snotty to him when he asked where you had went. He doesn’t like them much.”

“I like that they’re nice about my security. Goddess only knows which one will think I’m a prized breeding mare next,” she said dryly.

“They do?”

“Yeah. I have lineage. It’s like being a princess in some circles,” she said dryly. She finished her tea. “Let me finish eating or I’ll have to pass out later.”

“Blood sugar problems?”

“Breakfast. I was up late last night consulting for Seattle’s office. Their profiler is usually very good but not this time. I think her pregnancy is upsetting her brain.”

“They say the hormones can make you do strange things,” he quipped. “My sister sure did.”

“You have siblings?” He nodded, holding up two fingers. “Huh. How does that work?”

“A lot of fighting. Both of mine are girls but one’s a confirmed dyke without a girlfriend as she puts it and the other is married to a decent enough guy I probably won’t have to shoot.” She giggled, having to put down her sandwich so she didn’t choke. “Ma would appreciate that. She likes him for some reason. Probably because it got my sister out of the house. Even if it did cost them a fortune to marry her off to him.”

“I’ve never understood that urge.”

“Me either, but she was the family princess. Had to have the poufy dress, the hair just so, the sparkly stuff, the dinner that could’ve been served to Senators.” He shrugged. “It was nice enough but the beef was dry.”

“They usually are. All the ones I’ve went to for coworkers and work was.”

“Work? Really?”

“Yeah, a few times tracking some people, once just protecting someone because I *knew* she was going to show up to kill her.”

“Were you right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, tried to interrupt the honeymoon. Her new husband was *not* happy that my shooting the stepsister who wanted to take her place interrupted his happy moment.”

Sid stifled a snicker, shaking his head. “That’s insane.”

“That’s what the unit head said.” She nodded a few times. “He put it less nicely though.” She finished up and put down her credit card. The waiter miraculously swept by to snatch it without them really getting a good look at him. She looked back. “I think I went to school with him.”

“That’s got to be weird.”

“Yeah, sometimes. But then so are most people. Everyone’s cranked somehow. The secret to happiness is to find someone that’s cranked the same way you are or that understands the way you’re cranked.”

“That’s good advice.” He watched her sign the slip the now hovering waiter held out and add a small tip. He put down a few bucks too, getting a smirk from the waiter. “Can’t let a pretty girl pay all her own way. They get huffy.” She kicked him again. “Ow,” he said with a smile.

“Some of us aren’t that sort of woman.” She gathered her bag and got up, walking out with him. “Now, look back and spot the father and son.” He glanced back, like he was checking his hair. “See ‘em?”

“Yup.” He walked off making note and called the restaurant to get their security tapes and anything on the guys at that table.

“Check table 5 too. There was something odd about him today.” He added that and hung up, calling Turner. Who showed up with a lot of help. They caught the guys in there starting to leave. She and Sid watched from out of sight. “If they think I’m involved, there’ll be a backlash or others will try to prove that they’re unworthy and kill them,” she said. “I’ve seen it happen twice now. I have no idea who did that though.”

He looked at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s like I’m picking the worthy ones to that one.”

“Huh. I never thought of that. Goes along with the princess thing?” She nodded with a grimace. “Interesting.” He watched the two be led out. “Will the other son try something?”

“The youngest will.”

“The other one?”

“He’s found a wife I’d guess.”

“Huh. So that’s the more worthy one?”

“Could go either way. I’d make the kid more worthy if he wasn’t as worthy or I’m an unattainable goal.” She looked at him. “Which is why I never get a boyfriend.” She walked off once they had driven the hunters off. She ran into Turner, smiling at him. “The last one has a wife?”

“Probably,” he agreed. “You sticking around?”

“Yup. There was a brouhaha in the higher ups that made me want to leave after reenacting some things.” She smiled sweetly at him. He cackled. “I told my boss that when he said that people are worried about me. He said it didn’t help any but he’d pass that on. So I’m going to weed Mother’s garden.”

“Have fun with that,” he offered, walking off shaking his head. “I forgot how much life you bring,” he shot back.

“Yeah, it’s the lack of a dating life. It has to come out in other places.” Turner snickered all the way to his car. Sid walked up beside her. “You have been a charming escort.”

“Thank you, m’lady,” he said with a smirk. “What sort of brouhaha was it?”

“Oh, it was politics and then some.”

“The satanists took someone higher up out?” he joked.

“No, if they did, the system would work better because it working poorly leads to them having less ‘me time’. Even the anarchists taking over would be better than the ones we have right now.” He was laughing again. “Seriously. It’s like the demon worshiping society threw up all over the agency again and some of it was lava and some of it was dead flesh and some of it was even dead baby parts. And a few horns here and there.”

“No tails?”

“I’d bet they’d be really pissed off if you bite off their tails when you were kissing their butts.” He was snickering. “You have a more enjoyable week, Detective Steinway. I’m going to weed Mother’s garden for her.” She walked off smiling. He was a very nice guy. Something she didn’t run into too often.

“You get another one of those princess moments up here, you let us know,” he called after her.

“Sure, after I kill them I’ll call.” She flashed a grin back at him and walked over to a cab discharging someone so she could go back to the hotel.

Steinway went back to the station, finding Turner scowling. “He won’t give up the other son?”

“Said he’s suitably hitched and we can’t touch him by holy decree. Those who do God’s work are protected.”

“Huh. Well, maybe but then the Church turns on them when the power shifts.”

“They don’t go by that.”

“Like that rumor up in Boston?”

“Yup.” They both looked that way. “She good?”

“She walked off laughing and got into a cab to go weed her mother’s garden.”

“It’s a nice house. Very nice house. But no one really wants to see what he buried up there. Or who.”

“You think?”

“I know. Those stepmothers often had kids.” Sid winced. “She was kept like the princess she used to pretend to be.”

“Do they really think she’s like some holy womb?” Sid asked more quietly.

“Yeah, I’ve caught two of those myself. Whenever she’s in trouble she comes up here. She knows me and a few others will help her, no matter what it looks like. Her coworkers? They’d love to be able to prove blood tells. They haven’t managed it yet.”

“Yeah, she said one she had a restraining order against.”

“Yup. I helped retrieve her when he kidnaped her to try to make her confess she was doing something wrong. Got there barely in time too.” He rubbed an eyebrow with the side of his thumb. “The girl’s a nice lady. She’s a good woman, she’s wise, she’s mostly gentle, but she doesn’t really flinch at the sight of blood or anything.” He shrugged. “Though the girl never gets a date. Even back in high school everyone knew about her father and kept *far* away from her.”

“I can see why,” Sid agreed. “But he’s dead now.”

“There’s people who think he’s pulling strings somewhere instead.”

“How?”

“Hospital. Transplant or something.” He shrugged. “Supposedly he was into researching alchemy and eternal life too. That was his hobby to amuse himself with. I heard he stopped because she complained it would be nice if some of her step-siblings were around long enough for her to get to like.”

“Damn,” Sid muttered.

“Yup. He supposedly quit taking in new stepmothers for her after that one.”

“That’s nice I guess.” Sid shuddered. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Most people can’t.” He walked off. “Have fun if you want to get to know her. Like I said, the woman could always use friends.” He ran a hand over his short, tightly curled hair. Then wiped some sweat off his olive skin. “Want to take a crack at him?”

“No. I have the feeling he’d hate me for making her laugh.”

“Probably see you as a threat,” Turner agreed. He went to take another stab at the father and son. The other son was still in custody. They hadn’t even arraigned him yet. That one son though….

***

Sid Steinway woke up to his phone ringing a few days later, frowning at it. “I’m not on duty tonight,” he complained quietly. He listened to the heavy breathing. “I don’t really like guys that way,” he quipped. “Thanks for the call though.” He was going to hang up but something made him stay on, and it was a faint voice. A female voice. Damn it! He got up and got dressed. “You can’t keep her.” The other voice actually answered. Then he hung up.

Sid called in their technical department. “Can you guys trace a call that just hung up?” He gave his phone number and they found out what number had called. A toss away cellphone. “Give me that number,” he ordered, heading down to his car once he had shoes on. He could button his shirt in the car. He wrote it down. “All right. When I hang up, start a trace. I know, three minutes. After it’s cut, let me know. There’s an agent being held hostage, that’s why.”

He hung up and dialed it as he started the car. “Listen, you want her, I get that. I get why you want her and what sort of significance a woman like her would have. I even know that her father would be something you’d want to honor,” he said bluntly. “No, her father, duffus. Yes, that guy. Oh, you don’t want her because of her father. That might be a new one. No, I want to talk to her and if I don’t, I’m coming in there with SWAT. If I do, you’ll just get me.”

He smirked as the man huffed but put the phone close to her ear. “Sandra, are you all right?” He listened to the man complain that he was addressing his future wife so informally. “Until there’s a wedding, it’s going to stay that way and you’d have to get all her friends to show up,” he said dryly. “Now, where can we talk about this like men?” He got hung up and checked. Five minutes, that was enough. A few seconds later, a text message showed up. They had narrowed it down to a block, with a probable address. He headed that way, calling first Turner, and then dispatch. Since the guy didn’t want to play nice, neither would he.

Sid showed up within about a half-hour and parked, looking at the block. It was narrowed down to one side of one block. He stared at a few of them but one struck his interest. He got out of his car and walked that way. He met a few street kids. “Where’s the scary guy that kidnaped the FBI agent?” he asked.

“She kind of motherish and old?” one asked. Sid nodded. They pointed at the same building he was interested in. “Are more of you coming?”

“Yup, hopefully. I called for a lot of backup.” They shuddered and went to hide so they could watch the entertainment. Sid strolled over there, glancing through the doorway before walking in. “I told you, if you didn’t talk to me man-to-man I’d be in your face,” he said dryly. The young guy gave him a horrified look. He looked just like his father and brother. Nearly successful cloning look alikes. “Now then, where is she? Kidnaping a federal agent is always a bad idea.”

“How… You weren’t on long enough.”

“Only takes a minute or two nowadays,” Sid said dryly. “Where is she?”

“She’s not yours!” the kid shouted.

“Bull. And no, we’re just becoming friends. It’s about honor, ya know? Or well, you probably wouldn’t know.” The kid lunged at him and Sid shot him in the stomach. “That was really dumb. Your father’s gonna bitch for weeks.” He called for an ambulance and walked over him, going to find Sandra. “Sandra, give a yell.” She started to complain more loudly. He tapped on the door then leaned in. He had to smile. “Did you own that nightgownish looking flimsy dress?”

“No, this is his idea.” She glared at the dress then at him. “I have nowhere to wear something this tarty.”

“There’s all those dinners and things,” he teased, coming in to untie her.

“Yes, but I’m not invited because they know I’ll comment.” She rubbed her wrist and let him get her ankles. “He dead?”

“Stomach.”

“Pity.”

He looked at her. “You good? Need the ambulance too?” he asked quietly.

“No, he wanted me pure for the wedding night,” she said dryly.

He stared at her. “You are?” She swatted him. “Ow! Just asking!”

“Would you have gone near me knowing about my father?”

“College? Later on?”

“Everyone knew. Everyone still knows.” She heard sirens. “I see you got backup.”

“Yup, sure did.” He helped her up and walked her out there, handing her over to Turner, who stared at the dress. “His choice. I asked.”

“It looks nice enough on your figure but I would’ve picked you for something more flashy.” He walked her outside. “Make sure he didn’t kill anyone else here, Steinway.”

“Sure, boss.” He let the ambulance guys take him and SWAT got to stand down, which they liked. He found two kill spots and got CSU in but otherwise it was fine. He left it with them. She was still complaining about things. Steinway smirked. “He made you shave?”

“There is no biological reason for a woman to shave anything,” she said bluntly. “Women all over the world don’t shave and it only seems to matter to Americanized idiots with little brain cells who’re worried about their popularity by dating someone nicer looking than they are. So no, I’m not usually that sort of woman either.”

Sid grinned. “I should tell my sister that. She’s always complaining that her husband makes her shave. Maybe if she quit I’d have a reason to shoot him.”

She smiled. “She was probably too brainwashed by the media conspiracy as to what a woman should be. Which is why I ignore all that trash.”

“So do I. I’m a bigger fan of TNT than Lifetime.”

“TNT has some good shows but I miss when they were making original ones. They had some good, campy, fun things like their version of Robin Hood, who had an amazon as Maid Marion.”

He grinned. “I almost remember that.” She pinched him. “You still at the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get the statement and get you back there so you can put on something more… you. Less flimsy.”

“It will definitely go on the shrine of strange things that have happened.” Captain Turner finished her statement for her and then they drove her back to the hotel. Once they got there, there was a strange moment of silence. “You’re not coming up. I know some guys think it’s the only way to get over traumatic events and the like….”

“No, sweetheart, real men like to shoot those sort in the nuts,” Sid said dryly. She smirked at him and he smirked back. “Go change and go to bed, woman. It’s late.” She huffed but got out and went inside. They watched her go in and the doorman try hard not to give her a funny look. “Did someone actually try that?”

“That was before I took over the 32nd. I heard about it when I walked her to her door one night after something a lot like earlier.”

Sid shook his head. “They’re cranked in more ways than one.”

“Yeah but most humans are.” He drove Sid back to his car and then went home. Thankfully it wasn’t a long hostage situation tonight.

Sid drove home and laid down. He could respect Sandra, and maybe even learn to like her, but she was real defensive. Like a prickly piece of fruit. He was sure he’d like her more after he had skinned her.

to chapter 2

Hey WordPress family!

It’s been a while since I last blogged. Life has been crazy busy and God has been doing some incredible things.

I would like to give you all an update on the last four months.

The Sadness…

Well, to start, I resigned from a position that I loved and moved away from the students that brought me great joy. I loved working as a youth pastor at the church that I was serving. I couldn’t ask for a better bunch of students, parents, or congregation! It was a shocker to me to have God knock me on my butt and tell me “Chris, you’ve done all I want you to do here!”

So let’s just say that there were a few weeks of borderline depression- because I left the students I loved, the ministry I have spent so much time investing in, and the position of leadership that I was in. God had been doing a work in my heart for well over a year. He has been stretching me to be more than I could ever be on my own.

I still have to say that my heart is for student ministry and I have every intent to proceed in the future, but God has to finish the work that He has started.

The Journey…

After leaving the church, I have had several ups and downs. Several ministries that I had contact with had started asking me to come join them in their mission. As an attempt to figure out God’s leading, I checked out each of them. To my surprise, these opportunities turned into life lessons. At each door that I approached, God taught me a new lesson. Some of the lessons where about His soveriegnty, while others were about showing me my own sin. So, to say that the last four months has been a journey would be an understatement, and to say that this journey is over would be foolish.

The Purpose…

So, through God teaching me several lessons and giving me some awesome opportunities to meet some great men of the faith, I have been lead to a time of refreshment and revision. After turning down several positions and going in a completely unexpected direction, God has provided a surreal level of peace.

Up until about 3 weeks ago, my life has revolved around the fact that God had asked me to do ministry. My life’s purpose has been to reach a level of competence in a field that I felt God Himself had directed me into. Today, I sit unemployed and still with no idea of the future, but God is good. What I am learning is that even though ministry may be a great thing and the building of the Kingdom may be the call of the Church, neglecting my responsibilities are not.

The Explanation…

Let me explain: The responsibilities that I am talking about are twofold. 1) A calling to ministry should never supercede a calling to Christ. I’m learning that for us pastor types, guys who study ministry methods and theology all day, ministry can become somewhat of an idol. What I am saying is that we can come to love working for God more than loving God. I’m not sure that I could say that I’ve been loving ministry more than God, but I can definitely say that God has made me very aware of this idol in the past few weeks.

I have a desire to fulfill God’s call on my life and this desire is seeded deep in my soul. I believe that God has created me for this purpose and has equipped me to fulfill this calling, BUT that is not the sole purpose of my existence. What God wants just as much as me doing ministry is for me to enjoy Him! He wants a relationship with me, just as much as He wants a relationship with those who do not yet know Him.

Of course, I’ve believed this. Heck, I’ve been teaching this for the past 3 years of ministry! I guess, God decided it was time for me to go back to the basics again.

So on to the second thing: 2) I have a calling to my wife, way before I have a calling to the Church. I love Christ’s Church and my deepest desire is to see God’s people following God, but more than my heart of the church, I need to have a heart for my woman!

Now, if you’ve been around me for more than 5 minutes you’ve heard me talk a lot about my hott wife! I love my woman with all of my heart! She is the greatest thing I’ve ever gotten and way more than I ever deserved. My wife is the “cotton” to my “candy,” the “light” to my “day,” and the “sweet” to my “tea!” What I’m trying to get across is “I love her!”

But sometime affection of the heart can get sidetracked because of the burdens of ministry. My wife and I both feel that we have a great marriage and that I have been a great husband (these are her words). But from time to time, I’ve had more of an affection for my call, than my wife- which is not of God!

Even though God has called me to serve His people, He’s called me first to love, date, hold, talk late into the night, cook for, and clean for my woman. I’m called to be a Godly man before I’m called to be a “Man of God.”

The End…

So, for this season of our life- whether it’s short or long- I’m going to be sitting at the feet of Jesus and dating the hottest woman alive!

The above clip is from the 1999 movie “The Matrix.” This is one of my favorite movies of all time. Many people do not know this, but the films original storyboard was based on a loose interpretation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I think this film has tons of spiritual implications, but we will only discuss one of them today.

Question:

Do you ever hope that there is more to this life?

I do, all the time! I hope that God exists; I hope that God’s plans are sovereign; I hope that God’s plans are good; I hope that my life has a distinct plan; etc. The list goes on.

I wonder a lot about the future- what it will look like, how I will look, etc. I believe that we learn from our pasts, but our futures shape our hearts. What I mean is this: we learn from our past. We learn what to do, what not to do, what we are good at, and what we are not good at. But the future is where our hope lies. We long to know what’s next, who will be there with us, and how long it will take to get there. I believe that it is in those longings, we become who we were meant to be. I believe that it is in those longings God reveals Himself.

Faith

In Hebrews chapters 10 and 11, the significance of faith is revealed to us. Chapter 11 verses 1-2 gives us the definition: “Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see. Through their faith, the people of old earned a good reputation.” NLT

The author, then, continues by leaving us an extensive list of the OT patriarchs and the example of their faith.

Back to the clip

In the clip, Morpheus told Neo that he would have to free his mind in order to leap from one building to the next. As we saw from the clip, Neo didn’t make the jump, but fell to the street.

I can’t help but wonder if this concept is what the Bible is hinting at in its discussion of faith. The “people of old” apparently had great faith and because of that great faith they were able to accomplish some amazing tasks, such as: be taken into heaven without death, start a new nation, have a child when the womb is barren, lead hundreds of people out of the captivity of Egypt, split the Red Sea, and to destroy a city with only marching and horns.

As seen in Hebrews, faith grants God’s people the ability to accomplish amazing tasks.

But there’s a down side to it: No faith=no action. I believe that the author of Hebrews intentionally leaves out the countless stories of people who didn’t have faith for a reason- that reason being they don’t add too much to the grand story of the Bible. I mean, who wants to read about a bunch of people who did the average thing? Who wants to follow in the footsteps of the person who did only mediocre? I know I don’t!

The society we live in tells us that things can only be accomplished by measurable statistics or scientific norms. I can’t seem to give in so easily to this idea. I can’t do so, because my life has been filled with the opposite of the norm.

I have experienced countless moments of doubt on the behalf of others. I have been told time and time again that I “can’t do that.” But every time, God has made a way through. If statistics are always correct then I am the abnormality. If the statistics were correct in my life, I should be a lot farther down the social ladder than I am. To put it another way, my nurturing should have produced different.

I believe that this is because of faith. Faith is what drives my longings for the future. Faith is what gives me hope for the future. Faith is what gives my life purpose in the present. Faith is what gives me strength to carry on in the hard times. And, I am where I am here and now, because I have faith in someone who is not seen and that someOne has given me the strength to do the impossible.

But as you noticed from the clip, “no one makes the first jump.” My faith has been rocked on more than a couple of times. I’ve stepped out into the unknown with the hopes that God would provide and ended up at a dead-end; only to turn back around and go right back to where I didn’t want to go. Those moments have left me with questions, but not doubt.

Questions prevent us from doing stupid things, doubt cripples us from doing anything. I’ve acquired quite a few questions along the way, but so far I haven’t been crippled.

Final Thought

Faith is freeing your mind to the things unseen. Believing that the impossible is possible through means that are outside of yourself.

When you find that place of faith, you’ll be able to leap the largest gap, fight the strongest villain, and find the purest of loves.

“May God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ give you grace and peace.

Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God. Whenever I pray, I make my requests for all of you with joy, for you have been my partners in spreading the Good News about Christ from the time you first heard it until now. And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.

So it is right that I should feel as I do about all of you, for you have a special place in my heart. You share with me the special favor of God, both in my imprisonment and in defending and confirming the truth of the Good News. God knows how much I love you and long for you with the tender compassion of Christ Jesus.

I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding. For I want you to understand what really matters, so that you may live pure and blameless lives until the day of Christ’s return. May you always be filled with the fruit of your salvation—the righteous character produced in your life by Jesus Christ—for this will bring much glory and praise to God.”

Shaking and weeping, I read these words in preparation to announcing my formal resignation. Sunday September 12th, 2010 will ring in my heart for years to come as the day my heart stood still.

I am writing this blog the day after the resignation to express my heart and passion for God’s Church, but also to clear up any misconceptions anyone may have as to why I decided to step down.

**[I openly confess that my current understanding of the following convictions are limited to my finite mind, and I may never fully understand the infinite plans of an all-knowing and all-powerful God. Therefore, the following is my current interpretation of God's leading and may change or grow in understanding in the future.]**

A Quick Lesson

In the book of Ephesians around chapter 5, Paul is detailing pretty extensively the expectations held to those who claim the name of Christ- the Church. In what I believe is a pretty good summary statement, Paul says in verses 15-17, “So be careful how you live. Don’t live like fools, but like those who are wise. Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days. Don’t act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do.”

Let me explain what I mean by these words. I believe Paul is making his argument pretty clear, the pagans make decisions foolishly and are not careful in the way they live their lives. Now, if we were to take a quick look around us, I believe we could say that about much of our culture- people making life altering decisions on a whelm or while under some sort of influence. Paul is making his argument very clear here, as followers of an all-knowing God, we are to not live like our culture does. We bare the name of Christ, therefore are His representatives in the geography He has divinely placed us.

Paul exclaims, “Make the most of every opportunity and seek to understand what the Lord wants you to do.”

Rachel and I have had a similar verse posted on our refrigerator for several weeks, which reads, “Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone.“

-Colosians 4:5-6

The Stirrings in a small Man

I believe these verses, among many others, have led to a supernatural stirring in my small human heart. I feel as if my small human heart has experience a single “thud” from the divinely gracious heart of God. Let me explain.

About a year ago, I was asked the question, “What does God want?” I know, it sounds like a simple question, but it is a question that has plagued my mind for over well over a year. It has been a question that has worked its way to the very depth of my soul. And this is a question, that I believe is extremely important for the Church today.

I believe the answer to this question is this, “God wants every man, woman, and child on the face of the planet to see, hear, and understand the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ, without them having to come or go anywhere to meet Him.”

I realize that our vision as a local church is to be “Christians who are Actively Reaching Everyone,” and let me say, this is an excellent and Divinely inspired vision and goes along perfectly with my previous statement.

However, for me, this vision has not adequately fleshed itself out. Let me explain, when proposed with the question of God’s desires, I had to ask myself, “What would it look like in my life if God got what He wanted?” What I discovered was not what I believed God wanted at all!

The Heart of the Matter

Have you ever heard the old adage, “Where you’re heart is, your time will be also.” Well, for me that phrase proved everything. I took a hard long look at my schedule and discovered that my heart was not exhibiting the same time ratio as one that was reaching every man, woman, and child.

I noticed that the majority of my time was spent doing the opposite. I discovered that most of my time was being spent solely with other Christians. How am I supposed to reach a lost and dying world, if I keep spending the majority of my time with the saved and sanctified?

I’ve come to realize that this question is one that I must answer for myself; that this question is one that I, and I alone, will be held accountable for in eternity. This is a personal conviction and I do not wish to place it on anyone else, and therefore must change my life in accordance to this conviction.

I believe that God is at work in me; at work renewing my mind for the sake of the Gospel. Therefore ministry in the future must be fleshed out in a different way. Whatever this may look like, God will get the glory

I have come to believe that Christian ministry is not simply a working of the Church, but should be the very fiber of its being. And as a member of that Church, my responsibility is not to simply teach ministry, but to do ministry.

Clarifier

In saying these things, I in NO WAY seek to say that our local representation is not doing this very thing! In fact, I believe that we are actually trying our hardest to accomplish this very task. My concern is merely my own heart and the divine vision that has been placed in it!

Closing Remarks

Which brings me to the place of my resignation. I am definitely not stepping away from full-time church ministry. In fact, if anything, I’m stepping deeper into it.  My heart has always been Christ’s Bride and her mission, and will continue either until Christ’s return or my home going. Therefore, my resignation is so that Rachel and I can take the time needed to pursue this new vision that He has given and seek the absolute will of God for the future.

As for the near future, I honestly have no idea what God has in store for my wife and I, but I am expecting big things because I serve a big God. I know without a shadow of a doubt that God has been calling my human sized heart to a God sized heart’s task. I wish I knew what that task was, but God has yet to reveal it to us.

As I quoted earlier from Philippians, “Every time I thank of you, I give thanks to God… for you have been my partners in sharing the Good News of Christ.” Because of this, we will surely miss you all and will continue to send prayers up to God on your behalf. I thank you for all the love and support that you have given us in our first year of marriage. We feel that we have grown in our pursuit of God and in our love for each other through this experience.

In closing, we ask that you keep us in your prayers as we will be zealously seeking the face of God during this new season, and that God will bring continued confirmation. I also ask that you pray God send us in the direction of people who need to know Him, people who may have never had the opportunity to see, hear, or understand the message of an all-sufficient God who is passionately in pursuit for their souls.

sincerely,

Christopher E. Bell

The following excerpt is taken from a statement of faith at Bethlehem Baptist Church, whose pastor is Dr. John Piper. The following outline and concepts are not original to me.

Outline:

1. Preface
2. Historical Information
3. Total Depravity
4. Irresistible Grace
5. Limited Atonement
6. Unconditional Election
7. Perseverance of the Saints
8. Concluding Testimonies
9. A Final Appeal

1. Preface

We love God. He is our great Treasure, and nothing can compare with him. One of the great old catechisms says, “God is a Spirit, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable, in his being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth.” That is the One we love. We love the whole panorama of his perfections. To know him and to be loved by him is the end of our soul’s quest for eternal satisfaction. He is infinite; and that answers to our longing for completeness. He is eternal; and that answers to our longing for permanence He is unchangeable; and that answers to our longing for stability and security. There is none like God. Nothing can compare with him. Money, sex, power, popularity, conquest – nothing can compare with God.

The more you know him, the more you want to know him. The more you feast on his fellowship, the hungrier you are for deeper, richer communion. Satisfaction at the deepest levels breeds a holy longing for the time when we will have the very power of God to love God. That’s the way Jesus prays for us to his Father, ” . . . that the love with which You loved Me may be in them.” That is what we long for: the very love the Father has for the Son filling us, enabling us to love the Son with the very love of the Father. Then the frustrations of inadequate love will be over.

Yes, the more you know him and love him and trust him, the more you long to know him. That is why we have written this booklet. We long to know God and enjoy God. Another great old catechism says, “What is the chief end of man?” And answers: “Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him for ever.” We believe that enjoying God is the way to glorify God, because God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him. But to enjoy him we must know him. Seeing is savoring. If he remains a blurry, vague fog, we may be intrigued for a season. But we will not be stunned with joy, as when the fog clears and you find yourself on the brink of some vast precipice.

Our experience is that clear knowledge of God from the Bible is the kindling that sustains the fires of affection for God. And probably the most crucial kind of knowledge is the knowledge of what God is like in salvation. That is what the five points of Calvinism are about. We do not begin as Calvinists and defend a system. We begin as Bible-believing Christians who want to put the Bible above all systems of thought. But over the years – many years of struggle – we have deepened in our conviction that Calvinistic teachings on the five points are Biblical and therefore true.

Our own struggle makes us patient with others who are on the way. We believe that all the wrestling to understand what the Bible teaches about God is worth it. God is a rock of strength in a world of quicksand. To know him in his sovereignty is to become like an oak tree in the wind of adversity and confusion. And along with strength is sweetness and tenderness beyond imagination. The sovereign Lion of Judah is the sweet Lamb of God.

We hope you will be helped. Please don’t feel that you have to read the booklet in any particular order. Many of you will want to skip the Historical Introduction because it is not as immediately relevant to the Biblical questions. There is an intentional order to the booklet. But feel free to start wherever it looks most urgent for you. If you get help, then you will be drawn back to the rest of it. If you don’t, well, then just return to the Bible and read it with all your might. That is where we want you to end up anyway: reading and understanding and loving and enjoying and obeying God’s Word, not our word.

For the supremacy of God in all things, for the joy of all peoples,

John Piper, Pastor
On behalf of the Pastoral Staff
Minneapolis
April 1997

2. Historical Information

John Calvin, the famous theologian and pastor of Geneva, died in 1564. Along with Martin Luther in Germany, he was the most influential force of the Protestant Reformation. His Commentaries and Institutes of the Christian Religion are still exerting tremendous influence on the Christian Church worldwide.

The churches which have inherited the teachings of Calvin are usually called Reformed as opposed to the Lutheran or Episcopalian branches of the Reformation. While not all Baptist churches hold to a reformed theology, there is a significant Baptist tradition which grew out of and still cherishes the central doctrines inherited from the reformed branch of the Reformation.

The controversy between Arminianism and Calvinism arose in Holland in the early 1600′s. The founder of the Arminian party was Jacob Arminius (1560-1609). He studied under the strict Calvinist Theodore Beza at Geneva and became a professor of theology at the University of Leyden in 1603.

Gradually Arminius came to reject certain Calvinist teachings. The controversy spread all over Holland, where the Reformed Church was the overwhelming majority. The Arminians drew up their creed in Five Articles (written by Uytenbogaert), and laid them before the state authorities of Holland in 1610 under the name Remonstrance, signed by forty-six ministers. (These Five Articles can be read in Philip Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, vol. 3, pp. 545-547.)

The Calvinists responded with a Counter-Remonstrance. But the official Calvinistic response came from the Synod of Dort which was held to consider the Five Articles from November 13, 1618 to May 9, 1619. There were eighty-four members and eighteen secular commissioners. The Synod wrote what has come to be known as the Canons of Dort. These are still part of the church confession of the Reformed Church in America and the Christian Reformed Church. They state the Five Points of Calvinism in response to the Five Articles of the Arminian Remonstrants. (See Schaff, vol. 3, pp. 581-596).

So the so-called Five Points were not chosen by the Calvinists as a summary of their teaching. They emerged as a response to the Arminians who chose these five points to oppose.

It is more important to give a positive Biblical position on the five points than to know the exact form of the original controversy. These five points are still at the heart of Biblical theology. They are not unimportant. Where we stand on these things deeply affects our view of God, man, salvation, the atonement, regeneration, assurance, worship, and missions.

Somewhere along the way the five points came to be summarized under the acronym TULIP.

T-Total depravity.
U-Unconditional election
L-Limited atonement
I-Irresistible grace
P-Perseverance of the saint

NOTE: We are not going to follow this order in our presentation. There is a good rationale for this traditional order: it starts with man in need of salvation and then gives, in the order of their occurrence, the steps God takes to save his people. He elects, then he sends Christ to atone for the sins of the elect, then he irresistibly draws his people to faith, and finally works to cause them to persevere to the end.

We have found, however, that people grasp these points more easily if we follow a presentation based on the order in which we experience them.

1. We experience first our depravity and need of salvation.
2. Then we experience the irresistible grace of God leading us toward faith.
3. Then we trust the sufficiency of the atoning death of Christ for our sins.
4. Then we discover that behind the work of God to atone for our sins and bring us to faith was the unconditional election of God.
5. And finally we rest in his electing grace to give us the strength and will to persevere to the end in faith.This is the order we will follow in our presentation.

We would like to spell out what we believe the Scripture teaches on these five points. Our great desire is to honor God by understanding and believing his truth revealed in Scripture. We are open to changing any of our ideas which can be shown to contradict the truth of Scripture. We do not have any vested interest in John Calvin himself, and we find some of what he taught to be wrong. But in general we are willing to let ourselves be called Calvinists on the five points, because we find the Calvinist position to be Biblical.

We share the sentiments of Jonathan Edwards who said in the Preface to his great book on THE FREEDOM OF THE WILL, “I should not take it at all amiss, to be called a Calvinist, for distinction’s sake: though I utterly disclaim a dependence on Calvin, or believing the doctrines which I hold, because he believed and taught them; and cannot justly be charged with believing in every thing just as he taught.”

3. Total Depravity

When we speak of man’s depravity we mean man’s natural condition apart from any grace exerted by God to restrain or transform man.

There is no doubt that man could perform more evil acts toward his fellow man than he does. But if he is restrained from performing more evil acts by motives that are not owing to his glad submission to God, then even his “virtue” is evil in the sight of God.

Romans 14:23 says, “Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.” This is a radical indictment of all natural “virtue” that does not flow from a heart humbly relying on God’s grace.

The terrible condition of man’s heart will never be recognized by people who assess it only in relation to other men. Romans 14:23 makes plain that depravity is our condition in relation to God primarily, and only secondarily in relation to man. Unless we start here we will never grasp the totality of our natural depravity.

Man’s depravity is total in at least four senses.

Our rebellion against God is total.

Apart from the grace of God there is no delight in the holiness of God, and there is no glad submission to the sovereign authority of God.

Of course totally depraved men can be very religious and very philanthropic. They can pray and give alms and fast, as Jesus said (Matthew 6:1-18). But their very religion is rebellion against the rights of their Creator, if it does not come from a childlike heart of trust in the free grace of God. Religion is one of the chief ways that man conceals his unwillingness to forsake self-reliance and bank all his hopes on the unmerited mercy of God (Luke 18:9-14; Colossians 2:20-23).

The totality of our rebellion is seen in Romans 3:9-10 and 18. “I have already charged that all men, both Jews and Greeks, are under the power of sin, as it is written: None is righteous, no not one; no one seeks for God….There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

It is a myth that man in his natural state is genuinely seeking God. Men do seek God. But they do not seek him for who he is. They seek him in a pinch as one who might preserve them from death or enhance their worldly enjoyments. Apart from conversion, no one comes to the light of God.

Some do come to the light. But listen to what John 3:20-21 says about them. “Every one who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. But he who does what is true comes to the light, that it may be clearly seen that his deeds have been wrought in God.”

Yes there are those who come to the light—namely those whose deeds are the work of God. “Wrought in God” means worked by God. Apart from this gracious work of God all men hate the light of God and will not come to him lest their evil be exposed—this is total rebellion. “No one seeks for God…There is no fear of God before their eyes!”

In his total rebellion everything man does is sin.

In Romans 14:23 Paul says, “Whatever is not from faith is sin.” Therefore, if all men are in total rebellion, everything they do is the product of rebellion and cannot be an honor to God, but only part of their sinful rebellion. If a king teaches his subjects how to fight well and then those subjects rebel against their king and use the very skill he taught them to resist him, then even those skills become evil.

Thus man does many things which he can only do because he is created in the image of God and which in the service of God could be praised. But in the service of man’s self-justifying rebellion, these very things are sinful.

In Romans 7:18 Paul says, “I know that no good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh.” This is a radical confession of the truth that in our rebellion nothing we think or feel is good. It is all part of our rebellion. The fact that Paul qualifies his depravity with the words, “that is, in my flesh,” shows that he is willing to affirm the good of anything that the Spirit of God produces in him (Romans 15:18). “Flesh” refers to man in his natural state apart from the work of God’s Spirit. So what Paul is saying in Romans 7:18 is that apart from the work of God’s Spirit all we think and feel and do is not good.

NOTE: We recognize that the word “good” has a broad range of meanings. We will have to use it in a restricted sense to refer to many actions of fallen people which in relation are in fact not good.

For example we will have to say that it is good that most unbelievers do not kill and that some unbelievers perform acts of benevolence. What we mean when we call such actions good is that they more or less conform to the external pattern of life that God has commanded in Scripture.

However, such outward conformity to the revealed will of God is not righteousness in relation to God. It is not done out of reliance on him or for his glory. He is not trusted for the resources, though he gives them all. Nor is his honor exalted, even though that’s his will in all things (1 Corinthians 10:31). Therefore even these “good” acts are part of our rebellion and are not “good” in the sense that really counts in the end—in relation to God.

Man’s inability to submit to God and do good is total.

Picking up on the term “flesh” above (man apart from the grace of God) we find Paul declaring it to be totally enslaved to rebellion. Romans 8:7-8 says, “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law, indeed it cannot; and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”

The “mind of the flesh” is the mind of man apart from the indwelling Spirit of God (“You are not in the flesh, you are in the Spirit, if the Spirit of God really dwells in you,” Romans 8:9). So natural man has a mindset that does not and cannot submit to God. Man cannot reform himself.

Ephesians 2:1 says that we Christians were all once “dead in trespasses and sins.” The point of deadness is that we were incapable of any life with God. Our hearts were like a stone toward God (Ephesians 4:18; Ezekiel 36:26). Our hearts were blind and incapable of seeing the glory of God in Christ (2 Corinthians 4:4-6). We were totally unable to reform ourselves.

Our rebellion is totally deserving of eternal punishment.

Ephesians 2:3 goes on to say that in our deadness we were “children of wrath.” That is, we were under God’s wrath because of the corruption of our hearts that made us as good as dead before God.

The reality of hell is God’s clear indictment of the infiniteness of our guilt. If our corruption were not deserving of an eternal punishment God would be unjust to threaten us with a punishment so severe as eternal torment. But the Scriptures teach that God is just in condemning unbelievers to eternal hell (2 Thessalonians 1:6-9; Matthew 5:29f; 10:28; 13:49f; 18:8f; 25:46; Revelation 14:9-11; 20:10). Therefore, to the extent that hell is a total sentence of condemnation, to that extent must we think of ourselves as totally blameworthy apart from the saving grace of God.

In summary, total depravity means that our rebellion against God is total, everything we do in this rebellion is sin, our inability to submit to God or reform ourselves is total, and we are therefore totally deserving of eternal punishment.

It is hard to exaggerate the importance of admitting our condition to be this bad. If we think of ourselves as basically good or even less than totally at odds with God, our grasp of the work of God in redemption will be defective. But if we humble ourselves under this terrible truth of our total depravity, we will be in a position to see and appreciate the glory and wonder of the work of God discussed in the next four points.

4. Irresistible Grace

The doctrine of irresistible grace does not mean that every influence of the Holy Spirit cannot be resisted. It means that the Holy Spirit can overcome all resistance and make his influence irresistible.

In Acts 7:51 Stephen says to the Jewish leaders, “You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit as your fathers did.” And Paul speaks of grieving and quenching the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 4:30; 1 Thessalonians 5:19). God gives many entreaties and promptings which are resisted. In fact the whole history of Israel in the Old Testament is one protracted story of resistance, as the parable of the wicked tenants shows (Matthew 21:33-43; cf. Romans 10:21).

The doctrine of irresistible grace means that God is sovereign and can overcome all resistance when he wills. “He does according to his will in the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand!” (Daniel 4:35). “Our God is in the heavens; he does whatever he pleases” (Psalm 115:3). When God undertakes to fulfill his sovereign purpose, no one can successfully resist him.

This is what Paul taught in Romans 9:14-18, which caused his opponent to say, “Why then does he still find fault? For who can resist his will?” To which Paul answers: “Who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me thus?’ Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for beauty and another for menial use?” (Romans 9:20f).

More specifically irresistible grace refers to the sovereign work of God to overcome the rebellion of our heart and bring us to faith in Christ so that we can be saved. If our doctrine of total depravity is true, there can be no salvation without the reality of irresistible grace. If we are dead in our sins, totally unable to submit to God, then we will never believe in Christ unless God overcomes our rebellion.

Someone may say, “Yes, the Holy Spirit must draw us to God, but we can use our freedom to resist or accept that drawing.” Our answer is: except for the continual exertion of saving grace, we will always use our freedom to resist God. That is what it means to be “unable to submit to God.” If a person becomes humble enough to submit to God it is because God has given that person a new, humble nature. If a person remains too hard hearted and proud to submit to God, it is because that person has not been given such a willing spirit. But to see this most persuasively we should look at the Scriptures.

In John 6:44 Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” This drawing is the sovereign work of grace without which no one can be saved from their rebellion against God. Again some say, “He draws all men, not just some.” But this simply evades the clear implication of the context that the Father’s “drawing” is why some believe and not others.

Specifically, John 6:64-65 says, “‘But there are some of you that do not believe.’ For Jesus knew from the first who those were that did not believe, and who it was that should betray him. And he said, ‘This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.’”

Notice two things.

First, notice that coming to Jesus is called a gift. It is not just an opportunity. Coming to Jesus is “given” to some and not to others.

Second, notice that the reason Jesus says this, is to explain why “there are some who do not believe.” We could paraphrase it like this: Jesus knew from the beginning that Judas would not believe on him in spite of all the teaching and invitations he received. And because he knew this, he explains it with the words, No one comes to me unless it is given to him by my Father. Judas was not given to Jesus. There were many influences on his life for good. But the decisive, irresistible gift of grace was not given.

2 Timothy 2:24-25 says, “The Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kindly to every one, an apt teacher, forbearing, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant that they will repent and come to know the truth.”

Here, as in John 6:65 repentance is called a gift of God. Notice, he is not saying merely that salvation is a gift of God. He is saying that the prerequisites of salvation are also a gift. When a person hears a preacher call for repentance he can resist that call. But if God gives him repentance he cannot resist because the gift is the removal of resistance. Not being willing to repent is the same as resisting the Holy Spirit. So if God gives repentance it is the same as taking away the resistance. This is why we call this work of God “irresistible grace”.

NOTE: It should be obvious from this that irresistible grace never implies that God forces us to believe against our will. That would even be a contradiction in terms. On the contrary, irresistible grace is compatible with preaching and witnessing that tries to persuade people to do what is reasonable and what will accord with their best interests.

1 Corinthians 1:23-24 says, “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jew and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” Notice the two kinds of “calls” implied in this text.

First, the preaching of Paul goes out to all, both Jews and Greeks. This is the general call of the gospel. It offers salvation to all who will believe on the crucified Christ. But by and large it falls on unreceptive ears and is called foolishness.

But then, secondly, Paul refers to another kind of call. He says that among those who hear there are some who are “called” in such a way that they no longer regard the cross as foolishness but as the wisdom and power of God. What else can this call be but the irresistible call of God out of darkness into the light of God? If ALL who are called in this sense regard the cross as the power of God, then something in the call must effect the faith. This is irresistible grace.

It is further explained in 2 Corinthians 4:4-6, “The god of this world has blinded the minds of unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the likeness of God…It is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.”

Since men are blinded to the worth of Christ, a miracle is needed in order for them to come to see and believe. Paul compares this miracle with the first day of creation when God said, “Let there be light.” It is in fact a new creation, or a new birth. This is what is meant by the effectual call in 1 Corinthians 1:24.

Those who are called have their eyes opened by the sovereign creative power of God so that they no longer see the cross as foolishness but as the power and the wisdom of God. The effectual call is the miracle of having our blindness removed. This is irresistible grace.

Another example of it is in Acts 16:14, where Lydia is listening to the preaching of Paul. Luke says, “The Lord opened her heart to give heed to what was said by Paul.” Unless God opens our hearts, we will not heed the message of the gospel. This heart-opening is what we mean by irresistible grace.

Another way to describe it is “new birth” or being born again. We believe that new birth is a miraculous creation of God that enables a formerly “dead” person to receive Christ and so be saved. We do not think that faith precedes and causes new birth. Faith is the evidence that God has begotten us anew. “Every one who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God” (1 John 5:1).

When John says that God gives the right to become the children of God to all who receive Christ (John 1:12), he goes on to say that those who do receive Christ “were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” In other words, it is necessary to receive Christ in order to become a child of God, but the birth that brings one into the family of God is not possible by the will of man.

Man is dead in trespasses and sins. He cannot make himself new, or create new life in himself. He must be born of God. Then, with the new nature of God, he immediately receives Christ. The two acts (regeneration and faith) are so closely connected that in experience we cannot distinguish them. God begets us anew and the first glimmer of life in the new-born child is faith. Thus new birth is the effect of irresistible grace, because it is an act of sovereign creation—”not of the will of man but of God.”

5. Limited Atonement

The atonement is the work of God in Christ on the cross whereby he canceled the debt of our sin, appeased his holy wrath against us, and won for us all the benefits of salvation. The death of Christ was necessary because God would not show a just regard for his glory if he swept sins under the rug with no recompense.

Romans 3:25-26 says that God “put Christ forward as a propitiation by his blood…This was to demonstrate God’s righteousness because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies those who have faith in Jesus.”

In other words the death of Christ was necessary to vindicate the righteousness of God in justifying the ungodly by faith. It would be unrighteous to forgive sinners as though their sin were insignificant, when in fact it is an infinite insult against the value of God’s glory. Therefore Jesus bears the curse, which was due to our sin, so that we can be justified and the righteousness of God can be vindicated.

The term “limited atonement” addresses the question, “For whom did Christ die?” But behind the question of the extent of the atonement lies the equally important question about the nature of the atonement. What did Christ actually achieve on the cross for those for whom he died?

If you say that he died for every human being in the same way, then you have to define the nature of the atonement very differently than you would if you believed that Christ only died for those who actually believe. In the first case you would believe that the death of Christ did not actually save anybody; it only made all men savable. It did not actually remove God’s punitive wrath from anyone, but instead created a place where people could come and find mercy—IF they could accomplish their own new birth and bring themselves to faith without the irresistible grace of God.

For if Christ died for all men in the same way then he did not purchase regenerating grace for those who are saved. They must regenerate themselves and bring themselves to faith. Then and only then do they become partakers of the benefits of the cross.

In other words if you believe that Christ died for all men in the same way, then the benefits of the cross cannot include the mercy by which we are brought to faith, because then all men would be brought to faith, but they aren’t. But if the mercy by which we are brought to faith (irresistible grace) is not part of what Christ purchased on the cross, then we are left to save ourselves from the bondage of sin, the hardness of heart, the blindness of corruption, and the wrath of God.

Therefore it becomes evident that it is not the Calvinist who limits the atonement. It is the Arminian, because he denies that the atoning death of Christ accomplishes what we most desperately need—namely, salvation from the condition of deadness and hardness and blindness under the wrath of God. The Arminian limits the nature and value and effectiveness of the atonement so that he can say that it was accomplished even for those who die in unbelief and are condemned. In order to say that Christ died for all men in the same way, the Arminian must limit the atonement to a powerless opportunity for men to save themselves from their terrible plight of depravity.

On the other hand we do not limit the power and effectiveness of the atonement. We simply say that in the cross God had in view the actual redemption of his children. And we affirm that when Christ died for these, he did not just create the opportunity for them to save themselves, but really purchased for them all that was necessary to get them saved, including the grace of regeneration and the gift of faith.

We do not deny that all men are the intended beneficiaries of the cross in some sense. 1 Timothy 4:10 says that Christ is “the Savior of all men, especially of those who believe.” What we deny is that all men are intended as the beneficiaries of the death of Christ in the same way. All of God’s mercy toward unbelievers—from the rising sun (Matthew 5:45) to the worldwide preaching of the gospel (John 3:16)—is made possible because of the cross.

This is the implication of Romans 3:25 where the cross is presented as the basis of God’s righteousness in passing over sins. Every breath that an unbeliever takes is an act of God’s mercy withholding judgment (Romans 2:4). Every time the gospel is preached to unbelievers it is the mercy of God that gives this opportunity for salvation.

Whence does this mercy flow to sinners? How is God just to withhold judgment from sinners who deserve to be immediately cast into hell? The answer is that Christ’s death so clearly demonstrates God’s just abhorrence of sin that he is free to treat the world with mercy without compromising his righteousness. In this sense Christ is the savior of all men.

But he is especially the Savior of those who believe. He did not die for all men in the same sense. The intention of the death of Christ for the children of God was that it purchase far more than the rising sun and the opportunity to be saved. The death of Christ actually saves from ALL evil those for whom Christ died “especially.”

There are many Scriptures which say that the death of Christ was designed for the salvation of God’s people, not for every individual. For example:

John 10:15, “I lay down my life for the sheep.” The sheep of Christ are those whom the Father draws to the Son. “You do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.” Notice: being a sheep enables you to become a believer, not vice versa. So the sheep for whom Christ dies are the ones chosen by the Father to give to the Son.

In John 17:6,9,19 Jesus prays, “I have manifested Thy name to the men whom Thou gavest me out of the world; Thine they were, and Thou gavest them to me…I am praying for them; I am not praying for the world but for those whom Thou hast given me, for they are thine…And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be consecrated in truth.” The consecration in view here is the death of Jesus which he is about to undergo. His death and his intercession us uniquely for his disciples, not for the world in general.

John 11:51-52, “[Caiaphas] being high priest that year prophesied that Jesus should die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad.” There are children of God scattered throughout the world. These are the sheep. These are the ones the Father will draw to the Son. Jesus died to gather these people into one. The point is the same as John 10:15-16, “I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice.” Christ died for his sheep, that is, for the children of God.

Revelation 5:9, “Worthy art Thou to take the scroll and to open its seals, for Thou wast slain and by Thy blood didst ransom men for God from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” In accordance with John 10:16 John does not say that the death of Christ ransomed all men but that it ransomed men from all the tribes of the world.

This is the way we understand texts like 1 John 2:2 which says, “He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.” This does not mean that Christ died with the intention to appease the wrath of God for every person in the world, but that the “sheep,” “the children of God” scattered throughout the whole world, “from every tongue and tribe and people and nation” are intended by the propitiation of Christ. In fact the grammatical parallel between John 11:51-52 and 1 John 2:2 is so close it is difficult to escape the conviction that the same thing is intended by John in both verses.

John 11:51-52, “He prophesied that Jesus should die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad.”

1 John 2:2, “He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.”

The “whole world” refers to the children of God scattered throughout the whole world.

If “the whole world” referred to every individual in the world, we would be forced to say that John is teaching that all people will be saved, which he does not believe (Revelation 14:9-11). The reason we would be forced to say this is that the term propitiation refers to a real removal of wrath from sinners. When God’s wrath against a sinner is propitiated, it is removed from that sinner. And the result is that all God’s power now flows in the service of his mercy, with the result that nothing can stop him from saving that sinner.

Propitiated sins cannot be punished. Otherwise propitiation loses its meaning. Therefore if Christ is the propitiation for all the sins of every individual in the world, they cannot be punished, and must be saved. But John does not believe in such universalism (John 5:29). Therefore it is very unlikely that 1 John 2:2 teaches that Jesus is the propitiation of every person in the world.

Mark 10:45, in accord with Revelation 5:9,does not say that Jesus came to ransom all men. It says, “For the Son of man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Similarly in Matthew 26:28 Jesus says, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

Hebrews 9:28, “So Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.” (See also 13:20; Isaiah 53:11-12.)

One of the clearest passages on the intention of the death of Christ is Ephesians 5:25-27. Here Paul not only says that the intended beneficiary of the death of Christ is the Church, but also that the intended effect of the death of Christ is the sanctification and glorification of the church. This is the truth we want very much to preserve: that the cross was not intended to give all men the opportunity to save themselves, but was intended to actually save the church.

Paul says, “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself in splendor.”

Similarly in Titus 2:14 Paul describes the purpose of Christ’s death like this: “He gave himself for us to redeem us from all iniquity and to purify for himself a people of his own who are zealous for good deeds.” If Paul were an Arminian would he not have said, “He gave himself to redeem all men from iniquity and purify all men for himself”? But Paul says that the design of the atonement is to purify for Christ a people out from the world. This is just what John said in John 10:15; 11:51f; and Revelation 5:9.

One of the most crucial texts on this issue is Romans 8:32. It is one of the most precious promises for God’s people in all the Bible. Paul says, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, will he not also give us all things with him?”

The crucial thing to see here is how Paul bases the certainty of our inheritance on the death of Christ. He says, “God will most certainly give you all things because he did not spare his own Son but gave him up for you.” What becomes of this precious argument if Christ is given for those who do not in fact receive all things but instead are lost? The argument vanishes.

If God gave his own Son for unbelievers who in the end are lost, then he cannot say that the giving of the Son guarantees “all things” for the those for whom he died. But this is what he does say! If God gave his Son for you, then he most certainly will give you all things. The structure of Paul’s thought here is simply destroyed by introducing the idea that Christ died for all men in the same way.

We can conclude this section with the following summary argument. Which of these statements is true?

1. Christ died for some of the sins of all men.
2. Christ died for all the sins of some men.
3. Christ died for all the sins of all men.

No one says that the first is true, for then all would be lost because of the sins that Christ did not die for. The only way to be saved from sin is for Christ to cover it with his blood.

The third statement is what the Arminians would say. Christ died for all the sins of all men. But then why are not all saved? They answer, Because some do not believe. But is this unbelief not one of the sins for which Christ died? If they say yes, then why is it not covered by the blood of Jesus and all unbelievers saved? If they say no (unbelief is not a sin that Christ has died for) then they must say that men can be saved without having all their sins atoned for by Jesus, or they must join us in affirming statement number two: Christ died for all the sins of some men. That is, he died for the unbelief of the elect so that God’s punitive wrath is appeased toward them and his grace is free to draw them irresistibly out of darkness into his marvelous light.

6. Unconditional Election

If all of us are so depraved that we cannot come to God without being born again by the irresistible grace of God, and if this particular grace is purchased by Christ on the cross, then it is clear that the salvation of any of us is owing to God’s election.

Election refers to God’s choosing whom to save. It is unconditional in that there is no condition man must meet before God chooses to save him. Man is dead in trespasses and sins. So there is no condition he can meet before God chooses to save him from his deadness.

We are not saying that final salvation is unconditional. It is not. We must meet the condition of faith in Christ in order to inherit eternal life. But faith is not a condition for election. Just the reverse. Election is a condition for faith. It is because God chose us before the foundation of the world that he purchases our redemption at the cross and quickens us with irresistible grace and brings us to faith.

Acts 13:48 reports how the Gentiles responded to the preaching of the gospel in Antioch of Pisidia. “And when the Gentiles heard this, they were glad and glorified the word of God; and as many as were ordained to eternal life believed.” Notice, it does not say that as many believed were chosen to be ordained to eternal life. The prior election of God is the reason some believed while others did not.

Similarly Jesus says to the Jews in John 10:26, “You do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.” He does not say, “You are not my sheep because you do not believe.” Being a sheep is something God decides for us before we believe. It is the basis and enablement of our belief. We believe because we are God’s chosen sheep, not vice versa. (See John 8:47; 18:37.)

In Romans 9 Paul stresses the unconditionality of election. For example, in verses 11-12 he describes the principle God used in the choice of Jacob over Esau: “Though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad, in order that God’s purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of his call, [Rebecca] was told, ‘The elder will serve the younger.’” God’s election is preserved in its unconditionality because it is transacted before we are born or have done any good or evil.

NOTE: Some interpreters say that Romans 9 has nothing to do with the election of individuals to their eternal destinies. They say that the chapter only relates to the historical roles that are played by the peoples descended from Jacob and Esau.

We recommend The Justification of God by John Piper (Baker Book House, 1983) which was written to investigate this very issue. It concludes that Romans 9 not only relates to the historical roles of whole peoples, but also to the eternal destinies of individuals, because among other reasons (Justification, pp. 38-54), verses 1-5 pose a problem about the lostness of individual Israelites which would be totally unaddressed if the chapter had nothing to say about individuals.

The unconditionality of God’s electing grace is stressed again in Romans 9:15-16, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion. So it depends not upon man’s will or exertion, but upon God’s mercy.”

We really do not understand mercy if we think that we can initiate it by our own will or effort. We are hopelessly bound in the darkness of sin. If we are going to be saved, God will have to unconditionally take the initiative in our heart and irresistibly make us willing to submit to him. (See Romans 11:7.)

Ephesians 1:3-6 is another powerful statement of the unconditionality of our election and predestination to sonship.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. He predestined us in love to be his sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of the glory of his grace.

Some interpreters argue that this election before the foundation of the world was only an election of Christ, but not an election of which individuals would actually be in Christ. This simply amounts to saying that there is no unconditional election of individuals to salvation. Christ is put forward as the chosen one of God and the salvation of individuals is dependent on their own initiative to overcome their depravity and be united to Christ by faith. God does not choose them and therefore God cannot effectually convert them. He can only wait to see who will quicken themselves from the dead and choose him.

This interpretation does not square well with verse 11 where it says that “we were predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will.”

Nor does the literal wording of verse 4 fit this interpretation. The ordinary meaning of the word for “choose” in verse 4 is to select or pick out of a group (cf. Luke 6:13; 14:7; John 13:18; 15:16,19). So the natural meaning of the verse is that God chooses his people from all humanity, before the foundation of the world by viewing them in relationship to Christ their redeemer.

All election is in relation to Christ. There would be no election of sinners unto salvation if Christ were not appointed to die for their sins. So in that sense they are elect in Christ. But it is they, and not just Christ who are chosen out of the world.

Also the wording of verse 5 suggests the election of people to be in Christ, and not just the election of Christ. Literally it says, “Having predestined us unto sonship through Jesus Christ.” We are the ones predestined, not Christ. He is the one that makes the election of sinners possible, and so our election is “through him,” but there is no talk here about God having a view only to Christ in election.

Perhaps the most important text of all in relation to the teaching of unconditional election is Romans 8:28-33.

We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose, For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the first-born among many brethren. And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified. What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, will he not also give us all things with him? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.

Often this text is used to argue against unconditional election on the basis of verse 29 which says, “Those whom he foreknew he also predestined…” So some say that people are not chosen unconditionally. They are chosen on the basis of their faith which they produce without the help of irresistible grace and which God sees beforehand.

But this will not square with the context. Notice that Romans 8:30 says, “And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified.” Focus for a moment on the fact that all whom God calls he also justifies.

This calling in verse 30 is not given to all people. The reason we know it’s not is that all those who are called are also justified—but all men are not justified. So this calling in verse 30 is not the general call to repentance that preachers give or that God gives through the glory of nature. Everybody receives that call. The call of verse 30 is given only to those whom God predestined to be conformed to the image of his son (v.29). And it is a call that leads necessarily to justification: “Those whom he called he also justified.”

But we know that justification is by faith (Romans 5:1). What then is this call that is given to all those who are predestined and which leads to justification? It must be the call of irresistible grace. It is the call of 1 Corinthians 1:24 which we discussed above on page 6.

Between the act of predestination and justification there is the act of calling. Since justification is only by faith the calling in view must be the act of God whereby he calls faith into being. And since it necessarily results in justification it must be irresistible. There are none called (in this sense! not the sense of Matthew 22:14) who are not justified. All the called are justified. So the calling of verse 30 is the sovereign work of God which brings a person to faith by which he is justified.

Now notice the implication this has for the meaning of foreknowledge in verse 29. When Paul says in verse 29, “Those whom he foreknew he also predestined,” he can’t mean (as so many try to make him mean) that God knows in advance who will use their free will to come to faith, so that he can predestine them to sonship because they made that free choice on their own. It can’t mean that because we have seen from verse 30 that people do not come to faith on their own. They are called irresistibly.

God does not foreknow the free decisions of people to believe in him because there aren’t any such free decisions to know. If anyone comes to faith in Jesus, it is because they were quickened from the dead (Ephesians 2:5) by the creative Spirit of God. That is, they are effectually called from darkness into light.

So the foreknowledge of Romans 8:29 is not the mere awareness of something that will happen in the future apart from God’s predetermination. Rather it is the kind of knowledge referred to in Old Testament texts like Genesis 18:19 (“I have chosen [literally:known] Abraham so that he may charge his children…to keep the way of the Lord”), and Jeremiah 1:5 (“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations”) and Amos 3:2 (“You only [Israel] have I known from all the families of the earth”).

As C.E.B. Cranfield says, the foreknowledge of Romans 8:29 is “that special taking knowledge of a person which is God’s electing grace.” Such foreknowledge is virtually the same as election: “Those whom he foreknew (i.e. chose) he predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son.”

Therefore what this magnificent text (Romans 8:28-33) teaches is that God really accomplishes the complete redemption of his people from start to finish. He foreknows, i.e. elects a people for himself before the foundation of the world, he predestines this people to be conformed to the image of his Son, he calls them to himself in faith, he justifies them through that faith, and he finally glorifies them—and nothing can separate them from the love of God in Christ for ever and ever (Romans 8:39). To him be all praise and glory! Amen.

7. Perseverance of the Saints

It follows from what was just said that the people of God WILL persevere to the end and not be lost. The foreknown are predestined, the predestined are called, the called are justified, and the justified are glorified. No one is lost from this group. To belong to this people is to be eternally secure.

But we mean more than this by the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints. We mean that the saints will and must persevere in the obedience which comes from faith. Election is unconditional, but glorification is not. There are many warnings in Scripture that those who do not hold fast to Christ can be lost in the end.

The following seven theses summarize our understanding of this crucial doctrine.

Our faith must endure to the end if we are to be saved.

This means that the ministry of the word is God’s instrument in the preservation of faith as well as the begetting of faith. We do not breathe easy after a person has prayed to receive Christ, as though we can be assured from our perspective that they are now beyond the reach of the evil one. There is a fight of faith to be fought. We must endure to the end in faith if we are to be saved.

l Corinthians 15:1,2, “Now I would remind you, brethren, in what terms I preached to you the gospel, which you received, in which you stand, by which you are saved, if you hold it fast–unless you believed in vain.”

Colossians 1:21-23, “And you, who once were estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him, provided that you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel…”

2 Timothy 2:ll,l2, “The saying is sure: If we have died with him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall also reign with him…”

Mark 13:13, “But he who endures to the end will be saved.”

See also Revelation 2:7,l0,ll,l7,25,26; 3:5,ll,l2,2l.

Obedience, evidencing inner renewal from God, is necessary for final salvation.

This is not to say that God demands perfection. It is clear from Philippians 3:l2,l3 and l John 1:8-10 and Matthew 6:l2 that the New Testament does not hold out the demand that we be sinlessly perfect in order to be saved. But the New Testament does demand that we be morally changed and walk in newness of life.

Hebrews 12:14, “Strive for peace with all men, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.”

Romans 8:l3, “If you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”

Galatians 5:l9-2l, “Now the works of the flesh are plain: immorality, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and the like. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things shall not enter the kingdom of God.” (See also Ephesians 5:5 and l Corinthians 6:l0.)

l John 2:3-6, “And by this we may be sure that we know him, if we keep his commandments. He who says, ‘I know him’ but disobeys his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him; but whoever keeps his word, in him truly love for God is perfected. By this we may be sure that we are in him: he who says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.” (See also 1 John 3:4-10, 14; 4:20.)

John 8:3l, “Jesus then said to the Jews who had believed in him, ‘If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples.’” (See also Luke 10:28; Matthew 6:14,15; 18:35; Genesis 18:19; 22:16-17; 26:4-5; 2 Timothy 2:19.)

God’s elect cannot be lost.

This is why we believe in eternal security–namely, the eternal security of the elect. the implication is that God will so work that those whom he has chosen for eternal salvation will be enabled by him to persevere in faith to the end and fulfill, by the power of the Holy Spirit, the requirements for obedience.

Romans 8:28-30, “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his propose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brethren. And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified.” What is evident from this passage is that those who are effectually called into the hope of salvation will indeed persevere to the end and be glorified.

John 10:26-30, “You do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” (See also Ephesians 1:4-5.)

There is a falling away of some believers, but if it persists, it shows that their faith was not genuine and they were not born of God.

l John 2:l9, “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us; but they went out, that it might be made plain that they all are not of us.” Similarly, the parable of the four soils as interpreted in Luke 8:9-l4 pictures people who “hear the word, receive it with joy; but these have no root, they believe for a while and in a time of temptation fall away.”

The fact that such a thing is possible is precisely why the ministry of the Word in every local church must contain many admonitions to the church members to persevere in faith and not be entangled in those things which could possibly strangle them and result in their condemnation.

God justifies us on the first genuine act of saving faith, but in doing so he has a view to all subsequent acts of faith contained, as it were, like a seed in that first act.

What we are trying to do here is own up to the teaching of Romans 5:l, for example, that teaches that we are already justified before God. God does not wait to the end of our lives in order to declare us righteous. In fact, we would not be able to have the assurance and freedom in order to live out the radical demands of Christ unless we could be confident that because of our faith we already stand righteous before him.

Nevertheless, we must also own up to the fact that our final salvation is made contingent upon the subsequent obedience which comes from faith. The way these two truths fit together is that those who do not lead a life of faith with its inevitable fruit of obedience simply bear witness to the fact that their first act of faith was not genuine.

The textual support for this is that Romans 4:3 cites Genesis 15:6 as the point where Abraham was justified by God. This is a reference to an act of faith early in Abraham’s career. Romans 4:l9-22, however, refers to an experience of Abraham many years later (when he was 100 years old, see Genesis 21:5, l2) and says that because of the faith of this experience Abraham was reckoned righteous. In other words, it seems that the faith which justified Abraham is not merely his first act of faith but the faith which gave rise to acts of obedience later in his life. (The same thing could be shown from James 2:21-24 in its reference to a still later act in Abraham’s life, namely, the offering of his son, Isaac, in Genesis 22.) The way we put together these crucial threads of biblical truth is by saying that we are indeed justified through our first act of faith but not without reference to all the subsequent acts of faith which give rise to the obedience that God demands. Faith alone is the instrument (not ground or basis) of our justification because God makes it his sole means of uniting us to Christ in whom we “become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

God works to cause his elect to persevere.

We are not left to ourselves and our assurance is very largely rooted in the sovereign love of God to perform that which he has called us to do. l Peter 1:5, “By God’s power we are guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” Jude 24,25, “Now to him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you without blemish before the presence of his glory with rejoicing, to the only God, our Savior through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.”

l Thessalonians 5:23-24, “May the God of peace himself sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.”

Philippians 1:6, “And I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”

l Corinthians 1:8-9, “Jesus Christ will sustain you to the end; guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Therefore we should be zealous to make our calling and election sure.

2 Peter 1:10, “Therefore, brethren, be the more zealous to confirm your call and election, for if you do this you will never fall; so there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

8. Concluding Testimonies

It is possible to believe all these things in your head and go to hell. So easily deceived and hypocritical are we by nature! Therefore our concern in writing these things is not merely to convince the mind but also to win the heart.

We want for others the sweet experience of resting in the massive comfort of these truths. We want others to feel the tremendous incentive for righteousness and for missions flowing from these truths. We want for others the experience of knowing and trusting the sovereign grace of God in such a way that He and He alone gets the glory.

To this end we have gathered here some testimonies of what these truths have meant to some great Christians of the past. For those who have known them truly, they have never been mere speculation for the head, but have always been power for the heart and life.

Augustine

Augustine was resoundingly converted by the irresistible grace of God after leading a dissolute life. He wrote in his CONFESSIONS (X, 40):

I have no hope at all but in thy great mercy. Grant what thou commandest and command what thou wilt. Thou dost enjoin on us continence…Truly by continence are we bound together and brought back into that unity from which we were dissipated into a plurality. For he loves thee too little who loves anything together with thee, which he loves not for thy sake. O love that ever burnest and art never quenched! O Charity, my God, enkindle me! Thou commandest continence. Grant what thou commandest and command what thou wilt.

These are the words of a man who loves the truth of irresistible grace, because he knows he is utterly undone without it. But also in his doctrinal letters he drives this beloved truth home (Epistle ccxvii, to Vitalis):

If, as I prefer to think in your case, you agree with us in supposing that we are doing our duty in praying to God, as our custom is, for them that refuse to believe, that they may be willing to believe and for those who resist and oppose his law and doctrine, that they may believe and follow it. If you agree with us in thinking that we are doing our duty in giving thanks to God, as is our custom, for such people when they have been converted…then you are surely bound to admit that the wills of men are preveniently moved by the grace of God, and that it is God who makes them to will the good which they refused; for it is God whom we ask so to do, and we know that it is meet and right to give thanks to him for so doing…

For Augustine the truth of irresistible grace was the foundation of his prayers for the conversion of the lost and of his thanks to God when they were converted.

Jonathan Edwards

Jonathan Edwards, the great New England preacher and theologian of the eighteenth century, had an equally deep love for these truths. He wrote when he was 26 about the day he fell in love with the sovereignty of God:

There has been a wonderful alteration in my mind, in respect to the doctrine of God’s sovereignty, from that day to this…God’s absolute sovereignty…is what my mind seems to rest assured of, as much as of any thing that I see with my eyes…The doctrine has very often appeared exceeding pleasant, bright, and sweet. Absolute sovereignty is what I love to ascribe to God…God’s sovereignty has ever appeared to me, a great part of his glory. It has often been my delight to approach God, and adore him as a sovereign God. (Personal Narrative).

George Whitefield

Edwards wept openly when George Whitefield preached in his church, because of how much he loved the message he preached. Whitefield was a great evangelist in the 18th century. He said, “I embrace the Calvinistic scheme, not because Calvin, but Jesus Christ has taught it to me” (Arnold Dalimore, GEORGE WHITEFIELD 1, p. 406).

He pleaded with John Wesley not to oppose the doctrines of Calvinism:

I cannot bear the thoughts of opposing you: but how can I avoid it, if you go about (as your brother Charles once said) to drive John Calvin out of Bristol. Alas, I never read anything that Calvin wrote; my doctrines I had from Christ and His apostles; I was taught them of God (Dalimore, p. 574).

It was these beliefs that filled him with holy zeal for evangelism:

The doctrines of our election, and free justification in Christ Jesus are daily more and more pressed upon my heart. They fill my soul with a holy fire and afford me great confidence in God my Saviour.

I hope we shall catch fire from each other, and that there will be a holy emulation amongst us, who shall most debase man and exalt the Lord Jesus. Nothing but the doctrines of the Reformation can do this. All others leave freewill in man and make him, in part at least, a saviour to himself. My soul, come not thou near the secret of those who teach such things…I know Christ is all in all. Man Is nothing: he hath a free will to go to hell, but none to go to heaven, till God worketh in him to will and to do his good pleasure.

Oh, the excellency of the doctrine of election and of the saints’ final perseverance! I am persuaded, til a man comes to believe and feel these important truths, he cannot come out of himself, but when convinced of these and assured of their application to his own heart, he then walks by faith indeed! (Dalimore, p. 407).

George Mueller

George Mueller is famous for the orphanages he founded and the amazing faith he had to pray for God’s provision. Not many people know the theology that undergirded that great ministry. In his mid-twenties (1829) he had an experience which he records later as follows:

Before this period [when I came to prize the Bible alone as my standard of judgment] I had been much opposed to the doctrines of election, particular redemption (i.e. limited atonement), and final persevering grace. But now I was brought to examine these precious truths by the Word of God. Being made willing to have no glory of my own in the conversion of sinners, but to consider myself merely an instrument; and being made willing to receive what the Scriptures said, I went to the Word, reading the New Testament from the beginning, with a particular reference to these truths.

To my great astonishment I found that the passages which speak decidedly for election and persevering grace, were about four times as many as those which speak apparently against these truths; and even those few, shortly after, when I had examined and understood them, served to confirm me in the above doctrines.

As to the effect which my belief in these doctrines had on me, I am constrained to state for God’s glory, that though I am still exceedingly weak, and by no means so dead to the lusts of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, as I might be, and as I ought to be, yet, by the grace of God, I have walked more closely with Him since that period. My life has not been so variable, and I may say that I have lived much more for God than before (Autobiography, pp. 33-34).

Charles Spurgeon

C.H. Spurgeon was a contemporary of George Mueller. He was the pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London for thirty years, the most famous pastor of his day—and a Baptist at that. His preaching was powerful to the winning of souls to Christ. But what was his gospel that held thousands spellbound each week and brought many to the Saviour?

I have my own private opinion that there is no such thing as preaching Christ and Him crucified, unless we preach what is nowadays called Calvinism. It is a nickname to call it Calvinism; Calvinism is the gospel, and nothing else. I do not believe we can preach the gospel…unless we preach the sovereignty of God in His dispensation of grace; nor unless we exalt the electing, unchangeable, eternal, immutable, conquering love of Jehovah; nor do I think we can preach the gospel unless we base it upon the special and particular redemption of His elect and chosen people which Christ wrought out upon the Cross; nor can I comprehend a gospel which lets saints fall away after they are called (AUTOBIOGRAPHY 1, p. 168).

He had not always believed these things. Spurgeon recounts his discovery of these truths at the age of 16:

Born, as all of us are by nature, an Arminian, I still believed the old things I had heard continually from the pulpit, and did not see the grace of God. When I was coming to Christ, I thought I was doing it all myself, and though I sought the Lord earnestly, I had no idea the Lord was seeking me…I can recall the very day and hour when first I received those truths in my own soul—when they were, as John Bunyan says, burnt into my heart as with a hot iron…

One week-night, when I was sitting in the house of God, I was not thinking much about the preacher’s sermon, for I did not believe it. The thought struck me, “How did you come to be a Christian?” I sought the Lord. “But how did you come to seek the Lord?” The truth flashed across my mind in a moment—I should not have sought Him unless there had been some previous influence in my mind to make me seek Him. I prayed, thought I, but then I asked myself, How came I to pray? I was induced to pray by reading the Scriptures. How came I to read the Scriptures? I did read them, but what led me to do so? Then, in a moment, I saw that God was at the bottom of it all, and that He was the Author of my faith, and so the whole doctrine of grace opened up to me, and from that doctrine I have not departed to this day, and I desire to make this my constant confession, “I ascribe my change wholly to God” (AUTOBIOGRAPHY, pp. 164-5).

Spurgeon started a college for pastors and was intent that the key to being a worthy teacher in the church was to grasp these doctrines of grace.

Arminianism is thus guilty of confusing doctrines and of acting as an obstruction to a clear and lucid grasp of the Scripture; because it mis-states or ignores the eternal purpose of God, it dislocates the meaning of the whole plan of redemption. Indeed confusion is inevitable apart from this foundational truth [of election].

Without it there is a lack of unity of thought, and generally speaking they have no idea whatever of a system of divinity. It is almost impossible to make a man a theologian unless you begin with this [doctrine of election]. You may if you please put a young believer to college for years, but unless you shew him this ground-plan of the everlasting covenant, he will make little progress, because his studies do not cohere, he does not see how one truth fits with another, and how all truths must harmonize together…

Take any county throughout England, you will find poor men hedging and ditching that have a better knowledge of divinity than one half of those who come from our academies and colleges, for the reason simply and entirely that these men have first learned in their youth the system of which election is a centre, and have afterwards found their own experience exactly square with it.

9. A Final Appeal

It is fitting that we close this account of our belief in the doctrines of grace by appealing to you, the reader, to receive the magnificent Christ who is the eternal Author of these doctrines. Give heed to the beautiful entreaty extended by J.I. Packer, a great contemporary advocate of these truths:

To the question: what must I do to be saved? the old gospel [Calvinism] replies: believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. To the further question: what does it mean to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ? its reply is: it means knowing oneself to be a sinner, and Christ to have died for sinners; abandoning all self-righteousness and self-confidence, and casting oneself wholly upon Him for pardon and peace; and exchanging one’s natural enmity and rebellion against God for a spirit of grateful submission to the will of Christ through the renewing of one’s heart by the Holy Ghost.

And to the further question still: how am I to go about believing on Christ and repenting, if I have no natural ability to do these things? it answers: look to Christ, speak to Christ, cry to Christ, just as you are; confess your sin, your impenitence, your unbelief, and cast yourself on His mercy; ask Him to give you a new heart, working in you true repentance and firm faith; ask Him to take away your evil heart of unbelief and to write His law within you, that you may never henceforth stray from Him. Turn to Him and trust Him as best you can, and pray for grace to turn and trust more thoroughly; use the means of grace expectantly, looking to Christ to draw near to you as you seek to draw near to Him; watch pray read and hear God’s Word, worship and commune with God’s people, and so continue till you know in yourself beyond doubt that you are indeed a changed being, a penitent believer, and the new heart which you desired has been put within you (“Introductory Essay to John Owen’s The Death of Death in the Death of Christ,” p. 21).

Let Charles Spurgeon lead you in prayer:

Join with me in prayer at this moment, I entreat you. Join with me while I put words into your mouths, and speak them on your behalf— “Lord, I am guilty, I deserve thy wrath. Lord, I cannot save myself. Lord, I would have a new heart and a right spirit, but what can I do? Lord, I can do nothing, come and work in me to will and to do thy good pleasure.

Thou alone hast power, I know,
To save a wretch like me;
To whom, or whither should I go
If I should run from thee?

But I now do from my very soul call upon thy name. Trembling, yet believing, I cast myself wholly upon thee, O Lord. I trust the blood and righteousness of thy dear Son…Lord, save me tonight, for Jesus’ sake.” (From Iain Murray, The Forgotten Spurgeon [Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1973], pp. 101f.)

I believe that the Bible teaches us something amazing: When the Gospel begins to change our lives, it WILL come out of our lives and affect others. When the Gospel takes root in your life, it has no choice but to spread into the lives of the people that are around you.

You cannot say that you hold to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and not have it flow out of you into the lives of other people. Another way to put it: you cannot love God and not love others!

This is going to be the central thought for today’s post.

Jeremiah 29:4-10

Let me set up some context for you: the context of this is just after God has sent His people into exile in Babylon. This is what is telling them to do while they are there…

Vs. 4-7

^“ This is what the LORD Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: ”Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the welfare of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”

Notice what God is saying here! They have just been taken as a hostage by a foreign kingdom. Their families have been separated from them, their homes destroyed, their friends killed, their wives raped, their city destroyed, and belongings taken from them- and God is telling them to make a home their in Babylon. He even goes as far as to tell them to pray to the Lord for its behalf!

I want to hit on the word “welfare,” because it’s key to understanding the depth of this passage.

It’s the Hebrew word “shalom.” The word in the English means peace, but our word peace does not convey all of the meaning that Hebrew word carries with it.

The word in Hebrew carries with it this idea of peace, but God’s not just saying be at peace with these people, but the word carries with a more powerful meaning. It’s saying seek the peace and overall prosperity of the city. Seek the overall flourishing of the city.

God’s not telling them to not be mad at them not be mad at you, but I want you to go into this city and I want you to seek their welfare! Pray for their shalom, seek their shalom, seek universal flourishing.

This overall flourishing is this, not to simply go in and seek their spiritual flourishing, but seek their educational flourishing, their economic flourishing, cultural flourishing, their governmental flourishing, seek their overall flourishing!

Go into this city that I have sent you in and don’t decrease but increase. Pray for their overall welfare and seek the welfare of this city.

So what God is saying is “I want you to be a group of people that is for your city.”

Look at verse 10:

It says, “This is what the LORD says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place.”

So in other words, what God is saying here is, “I know you’re in a bad place right now, but for 70 years I want you to hang in there. I’m going to bring you home, but just do what I’m asking of you. Right now you’re in a pagan culture, in a pagan city, but while you’re there, I want you to seek their welfare.”

1 of 4 types of Churches

Truthfully, I think this impacts how we live today. I think we can be 1 of the 4 different kinds of churches in the United States today.

I think there are 4 different kinds of churches, and we are one of them, but which one are we and which one is God calling us to be.

1) Most churches fall into this category, which is a church that is simply in the city.

This means, you’re simply in your city. You’re there, you have a building, you hang out together, you love each other, you do some stuff together, maybe you even have some good community together, but your just a church that is in the city.

This church doesn’t really have any influence, it has no real effect on the city, it may be one of many, but the church is just there in the city.

2) The second, there aren’t as many of these, but there are some. In fact, I’ve worked in one, and it is actually a church that is against the city.

Have any of you been in a church that is against the city. It’s like “we’re good and their bad.”

Picture this in your head: It’s like the church people are looking down from atop a hill with a look of disgust because they think they are good and everyone else is bad- sinners!

3) The third, which is an increasing one, which is a church that is with the city.

This is the kind of church that looks so much like the city that you can’t even tell there is any difference. They look so much like the city that they’ve lost their saltiness. This church has bent so far towards the culture that they are no longer salt and light in it. They are no longer good for anything!

4) The final kind of church is a church that is for the city.

This church is not just in the city, definitely not against it, not with it, but is actually for it.

As the Gospel works in this church, the Gospel begins to come out of the church for the benefit of the city.

This church is a church that is seeking the benefit of the city in every aspect. It seeks to see the cities homelessness lessened, poverty lessened, and hate lessened. It seeks to see the cities financial status increased so that more people can be helped. It seeks to have the best education, so that people can learn and be equipped for the spread of the Gospel. It seeks to fight off personal sin and, with loving kindness, the sin in the lives of others defeated.

Moving on…

This concept is something that God has been working on in my life for some time now. God has been planting this thought and building upon it for a while now.

God has been laying this on my heart for a reason.

I’ve been thinking about the kind of pastor I want to be and the kind of group that I want to lead, and God has continually been bringing me back to this one thought- seek the “Shalom” of the city.

I don’t want to lead a ministry that is simply in the city or so much like it that there is no difference, but I want to be part of something that is solely Divine in nature. I want to be part of a ministry that is making a positive difference in the city that we live in.

Imagine

I want you to image for a minute what it would look like for a church to be for its city.

What would it look like to seek the joy of our city?

We served our city in every possible way. We sought their wellbeing.

Imagine that we served the homeless in our city selflessly.

Imagine if we gave back instead of indulging ourselves in the hard work of others.

Imagine if we actually loved the schools that God has placed around us and didn’t just seek to be at peace with them but sought their welfare!

Imagine, that we saw the needs of students in our schools and sought the Bible for the answers to their needs, then we prayed for God to help them, then we went to them and shared the Gospel to them in a way that was more than just words, but a completion of the word through good deed.

Imagine you saw a student who was struggling with their grades in a particular subject and decided to help them in their studies, so that they could see the love of God.

Imagine if you saw someone that was getting picked on and you not only befriended him, but took up for him.

Imagine if we treated authorities with respect instead of talking bad about them behind their backs.

Imagine if we saw someone with ratty clothes and you gave them some of yours, not your leftovers, but the new and unused.

Imagine if you saw someone who was unloved and you loved them the way Christ loved the church.

Imagine the difference that would make in our schools, in our community, in our city, and in ultimately in the world. Imagine the difference that would make in the life of that other person. Imagine the difference that would make in your life.

Now imagine, that if you were to leave for whatever reason, the homeless, the school systems, the teachers, the authorities, and local business owners actually grieved because you/we made such a difference in the city. That we sought after their welfare with such passion that when we were gone, our lack of presence would drastically noticed.

What would it look like to take responsibility for the city that God has placed us in? Spiritual responsibility? Social responsibility? Economical responsibility?

A question for you to answer:

Can you say that anyone in the city you live in, outside of your friends and family, would grieve if you were to leave because of the passion of your good work would be gone?

Can you say that you are making such the difference that if you were to leave, the city would notice?

Can you are doing what God called the early Jews to do? Are we as the Church seeking the welfare, the overall prosperity, of the cities that we live in?

Do people even know we are here? Do people even care?  If not, it’s not because we aren’y equipped or gifted enough, it’s because we just don’t care!

God has given us all the gifts that we could ever need! It’s our responsibility to use those gifts for His glory and the welfare of the geography that God has placed us in!

I am pleading with you, as if God were pleading through me, seek the shalom of your city!

When we see horrific things happen in the world around us, we often ask “Why does God not care?” But I can’t help but wonder if God’s not asking the same thing of us: “Why do you not care?”

Application

I believe that God let us continue here in this world of spiritual slavery for a purpose. He’s coming to get us, but while we are hear, He is calling to a task.

Are you willing to listen and obey?

If so, it’s time for us to start seeking the welfare of our city. That means long term dedication! That means hard work and persecution. That means a changed life that is being changed by the Gospel!