THREE OH FOUR

by SANDEFUR

My third season continues. Sequel to #303.

THREE OH FOUR

By SANDEFUR

9-17-05/Saturday morning

Joan enters the Girardi kitchen from the backstairs.

"Morning…" she mumbles. Suddenly Joan stops and takes a step back. Sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee, is Ryan Hunter.

"What-what are you doing here? Where are my parents?"

"Relax Joan, I didn't bury them in the backyard. They're in the den discussing a private matter."

"What are you up to now?"

Ryan doesn't answer as he hears Will and Helen approaching.

"My wife can be very persuasive."

Ryan asks, "Then it's all settled?"

Helen replies, "Work can resume on the portrait as soon as possible."

"What's going on?" Joan asks.

Helen snorts derisively, "These two sexist MEN decided to cancel the portrait project without even consulting me."

Ryan shrugs. "I had inadvertently caused the wife of a friend to be traumatized and placed in danger. Call me old-fashioned, but I wouldn't consider restarting the project without Will's consent."

"And I didn't want to take even the slightest risk with your mother's safety."

"I don't know, Mom. You were awfully shook up after the shooting at the Herald. Maybe you should let this go."

"Joan, not you too. I'm fine. I got some counseling with Dr. Hunter, and now I'm eager to get back to work."

"But the risk?"

Will says, "That may be a thing of the past."

"You've had a breakthrough?" Ryan asks.

"Oh yeah. As chairman of the police review board, I think you can be trusted with the info. I've got a file in the den that I think you'll be interested in."

Will and Ryan head towards the den while Helen calls after them…

"Oh sure, leave the women in the kitchen while the men take care of business!"

"Mom, chill. You're getting way too radical."

"Oh really? Well since you're such a traditionalist, you can freshen Ryan's coffee and bring him one of my homemade brownies."

"Doesn't that send a mixed message?"

"Not if I make you do it. Then it's not women being exploited, just a child."

Joan adds coffee to Ryan's cup and places a brownie on a small plate. She heads for the den, but calls over her shoulder…

"When I turn 18…"

"You'll still do what your mother says until you can pay your own way."

Joan mutters, "Unfair."

Behind the closed doors of the den, Will and Ryan are sitting on the couch reviewing a police file.

Will says, "We suspected the shooter in the Reverend Washington attack was ex-military."

"Why?"

"From the bullet's trajectory, we knew the shot came from a tree over a block away. That kind of precise shooting usually means an army or marine sharpshooter."

"That doesn't narrow it down very much."

"It didn't until we recently found this."

Will pulls a photo from the file.

"A shell casing?"

"We searched the area of the shooting a dozen times with no luck, but on our last search we found this casing in a small hollow of the tree. Apparently when the bullet casing left the rifle, it bounced on a tree branch and ended up in what once was an old squirrel's nest."

"How does this get you closer to the shooter?"

"He finally made a mistake. We lifterd a partial fingerprint from the shell casing. It took a while, but we finally got a match…" (Will removes another photo from the file.) "Meet Paul Atwell, former army corporal and rated an expert with the rifle. He received a dishonorable discharge a year ago for instability and insubordination."

"You're keeping this information under wraps?"

"Yes, we believe he is still in the area, and we don't want to spook him while we search every motel, boarding house and cheap apartment in town."

"Excellent work, Will. This will shut the mouths of Roberta Presley and her ilk."

"Problems?"

"I've been getting some political pressure, but I wouldn't budge. I knew you were the right man for the job."

"I never meant for you to take the heat for me."

"What are friends for?"

There is a brief knock on the door. Joan enters.

"Ryan, Mom sent you fresh coffee and one of her homemade brownies. Sorry Dad, nothing for you. Guess you're still in the doghouse."

"Is that a peanut butter brownie?" Ryan asks.

"Homemade."

"I'm allergic to peanuts."

"Then enjoy."

Will warns, "Joan!"

"I meant the coffee. I'll take this little treat."

Joan picks up the brownie plate, and then spots the Atwell photo. She drops the plate, gasps and covers her mouth.

Will asks, "Joan, what's wrong?"

"That man! He's one of the men who mugged me. The one with the knife…"

Joan stares at the photo until she senses Ryan's gaze. They lock eyes and he smiles.

X X X X X

Half an hour later, Will, Helen, Ryan and Joan have been joined by Kevin and Dr. Hunter. He examines the Atwell photo.

"Are you sure, Dr. Hunter?" Will asks.

"No doubt about it. He's a little older and his hair is a little longer, but I know it's the same man, despite the fact he covered his face with a bandana. He's the one who slashed me with a knife."

"I don't understand this. We always assumed there was more than one man involved in the series of religious attacks, as well as the shootings…"

Ryan interrupts, "It was a different man who shot at me?"

"So we believe. The sniper who shot at Reverend Washington was an expert rifleman. Whoever shot at you and Helen used a pistol at close range and missed by a wide margin."

Kevin asks, "Is any of this going to make it into the Herald?"

Ryan nods. "Of course, after Will lifts the press blackout."

"Which will happen as soon as we nab Atwell and his partner. I've got a few questions for them. Number one is why would God-hating, anti-religious zealots attack Joan? What's the connection?"

Ryan says, "Perhaps it was something as mundane as petty theft? Or, and forgive me for suggesting this, rape?"

Ryan and Joan lock eyes for an intense moment before she looks away.

Dr. Hunter says, "It may have been something more heinous. Men such as these are often involved in a satanic worship psychosis. The ultimate expression of that psychosis is a black mass."

"What's that?" Joan asks.

"It's a perverted ritual in which a virgin is sacrificed to the devil."

"But how could they know…" (Everyone looks at Joan, causing her to pause.) "Uh, never mind."

Will asks, "Dr. Hunter, can you describe Atwell's partner?"

"I gave the best description I could the night of the mugging. He was a larger, more muscular man, but he stayed mostly in the shadows. I didn't get a very good look."

"Joan?"

"We went over this, Dad. I got less a look than Dr. Hunter, but you can catch them now, right? Then you can ask them who they were working for."

Will replies, "Why do you think they were working for someone?"

"That pair in the alley didn't strike me as the type who are smart enough to pull off a series of attacks and get away with it."

Dr. Hunter remarks, "A good point, Joan. It's certainly a point worth considering. Chief Girardi?"

"If we catch them, I'll include it on my list of questions. I'm going in to the office to fill in the task force on this latest development. Will you be available for questioning, Dr. Hunter?"

"If you think I'd be of any use, of course."

Will puts the Atwell file into his briefcase and heads for the door. He says, "Kevin, don't worry. With any luck that press blackout will soon end. Helen, I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"That's okay, dear. The little woman will be waiting by the hearth with your pipe and slippers."

Will hesitates, clearly wanting to settle this matter, but there are just too many people present. He shrugs and exits, faintly muttering, "Women."

Kevin chuckles and says, "Joan, come on, I'll give you a ride into work."

"Oh, okay. Bye Mom."

Helen waves as her children exit.

Ryan says, "If you will excuse me Helen, I need to get started on my day."

"Not so fast. While you are here, I want you to make a final decision on the preliminary sketches I've made. At the very least, you owe me a few minutes of your time."

"Helen, I'm truly sorry. I never meant to cause a rift between you and Will."

"Hardly a rift. I'll just teach Will a lesson for a few days, and then we will make up, which is the fun part. I've got a couple of sketches upstairs, and the rest are in the garage. Meet you there in a few minutes?"

As Ryan nods, Dr. Hunter says, "And I'll walk out with him."

Helen waves goodbye as she rushes up the stairs. The Hunter brothers exit out the back door and into the yard. Dr. Hunter speaks first…

"So, are we going to maintain our usual stony silence?"

"How is Dylan doing?"

"Recovering, but much too slowly for his tastes."

"He tells me he is concerned the injuries he suffered will keep him from making the basketball team."

"I know. I also know you've called him several times, and have exchanged several e-mails."

"That was the plan, wasn't it? To use Dylan as a go-between to encourage this reconciliation you are determined to have."

"Yes."

"Does he know this?"

"Of course. I put it to him as a favor"

"It won't work. You and I may be brothers biologically, but we will never be family again."

"I pray you are mistaken."

"Ah yes, just like Father, still clinging to your churchy ways."

"Compared to what you are doing? Rejecting God? Is that why the miracle that saved Dylan didn't make it into your newspaper?"

"The Herald is a responsible newspaper, not a supermarket tabloid. We don't indulge in UFO sightings, ghosts or alleged miracles of God."

"Alleged? How else can you explain two healthy men being struck blind during an attack on your nephew?"

"Maybe alcohol and stress combined to produce a state of hysterical blindness? Or perhaps they were abusing some illegal drug and experienced actual temporary blindness?"

"How can you, of all people, deny God his due?"

"If your God wants favorable publicity, let him operate in the open. Let's see if the Old Boy still has what it takes."

"You shouldn't say things like that."

"Then maybe you should keep your distance. You wouldn't want to get struck by the same lightning bolt that's headed my way." (Ryan opens the door to the Girardi garage, but pauses for one last shot.) "I mean it, John. Let's not do this again."

Ryan closes the door in his brother's face. Dr. Hunter shrugs and walks away. Inside the garage, Ryan pulls out his cell phone and punches in a number.

"It's me. We have a problem, and I don't have much time. Here's what I want you to do…"

X X X X X

Meanwhile, in a large pet supply store, Kevin and Joan have just entered.

"You didn't tell me you would be running errands." Joan complains.

"This is my only stop. I promised Lily I'd pick up some medicine for her stupid cat."

"I thought I was the one who hated cats?"

"I'm coming around to your point of view."

"Better not let Lily hear you say that."

"Or maybe it is time I was a little more honest with her—about her cats, about my attitude towards the church, and about our future."

"You're not planning to dump her, are you? I like Lily."

"So do I. In fact, I love her."

"Oh-my-God, you're going to ask her to marry you!"

"Shhh, not yet. Like I said, we have some issues to settle between us, but yeah, I'm headed in that direction. That's strictly confidential."

Joan briefly hugs Kevin. "My lips are sealed. Now go get the cat medicine. I don't want to be late for work."

"Be right back."

Kevin rolls away, and Joan wanders about the store admiring the fish and birds. She comes across a green parrot that is next to a bowl of unshelled peanuts. It says…

"Awwk, Polly want a peanut."

Joan smiles. "I thought it was, Polly want a cracker?"

"Peanut! Peanut!"

"Okay, here!"

Joan tosses a peanut to the bird and turns to walk away.

"Thanks Joan."

Joan freezes in her tracks and turns back to the parrot, which is merely devouring the peanut.

"Do you have any idea how much you shake me up when you pull stunts like this?"

Parrot God replies, "Of course I do, Joan. From my perspective, it's a lot of fun."

"So what's on your bird brain today?"

"I want you to help someone out of their shell."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Any hint as to who this oh-so-shy person might be?"

"Trust me Joan, it's someone you will recognize."

"You know, people say God is in the details. If othey knew how few details you give."

From behind, Joan hears... "I think if you want the bird to talk, you have to start with a simple phrase, like 'Pretty Bird'."

Joan pauses, embarassed that Kevin has caught her conversing with a bird. "I might if he were pretty, but mostly he's just annoying!"

"Awwk!"

"I don't think we have time for you to finish this arguement with your intellectual equal. Say goodbye, Joan."

Kevin heads for the exit and Joan follows.

Parrot God calls out, "Awwk, pretty bird!"

Joan looks back over her shoulder and sees the parrot lift one of its' wings--a God wave.

X X X X X

At that moment in Adam's shed, he is busy working on a sketch. There is a brief knock at the door, and Glynis enters. She is carrying her own sketchpad and several books.

"Adam?"

"Glynis, hi. You made it."

"Yes..." (Glynis pauses to take in all the different things in the shed.) "Oh my, your artwork is so daring. It must be wonderful to be an artist and to have such a visionary approach to life."

"Yeah, I guess. So did you pick out the famous portrait we are suppose to do an homage to?"

"I looked through the books you lent me. Such a wide range of choices! However, I kept coming back to one particular portrait. I was 'drawn' to it." (Glynis pauses to see if Adam notices her pun. He doesn't). "Now are you sure you want me to pick this?"

"Cha. You're the one who will be posing for hours. I bet you chose the Mona Lisa."

"Hardly. Sitting there all that time with an insipid smile on my face? No, I wanted to try something a little more bold. Something befitting your courage as an artist. A little Botticelli..."

Glynis opens one of the art books to a pre-selected page. With just a moment's hesitation, she points.

Adam says, "The Birth of Venus? I don't know..."

"If you're worried about time constraints, I thought you could crop out the figures on the side and just concentrate on Venus as she emerges from the giant shell."

"Yeah, that's a good idea, and I could even make a giant shell from chicken wire and styrofoam, but..."

"But what?"

"The school would never allow it."

"Why not? It's a classic work of art."

"She's nude."

"Not really. The...uh, 'naughty bits' are covered by her long hair and arm."

"One of her breasts is exposed."

"I suppose I could extend my arm a bit and cover it with my fingers. And I know my hair isn't long enough to cover me down there, but I could get a Lady Godiva wig from a costume shop. Please Adam, I want to do this."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of everyone seeing me as I was years ago. My persona at school has been frozen in time. Everyone still thinks of me as that shy, gawky science geek. I've grown, I've matured, I've blossomed, damn it!"

"And you think this portrait will force people to see that?"

"I have to shake people's perceptions. Do you know I was speaking with Grace and Joan recently, and they still think I'm hung up on Luke? That was two years ago, and I've had three boyfriends since then."

"You have?"

"See, that's what I'm talking about. Adam, please do this for me. Make Arcadia High see me as the woman I've become."

"I'd love to do this, but I've never done a complete nude before. In the painting the 'naughty bits' will be covered, but I'll see everything."

"Adam, it's not like you were some sleazy photographer. You're a serious artist and I trust you."

"I'm not sure I trust myself. What I mean..."

"Are you worried you will have the natural male response to a nude female? That I'll be offended? I'd probably be offended if you didn't have such a reaction. Other artists manage this, and I'm sure you will too. It's probably like visiting a nudist camp. At first everything seems titilatting, but in time it all becomes mundane."

"I hope so. I blush easily."

Glynis laughs. "So we're agreed?"

"Yeah, I'll help you come out of your shell by putting you in one."

Glynis politely chuckles at his pun.

X X X X X

Back at the Girardi garage, Ryan is reviewing a dozen or more sketches while a nervous Helen stands by.

"They're all good, but I think the best choice would be this one. The three-quarters length without a tie and standing in front of the newspaper's logo."

Helen nods. "My favorite too."

"Although, I was intrigued by the one I found in the corner."

"What? Oh no, you didn't see that one!"

Ryan walks to a nearby corner and pulls out a sketch that is partly hidden behind a couple of paintings. "Me as a Greek god? How flattering."

"I'm so embarassed. That was just for fun. I never meant for it to be considered for the project."

"Yes, it would take an ego considerably larger than mine to hang this in the lobby of the Herald."

"It would certainly generate a lot of attention."

"If only my true physique were up to this idealized version."

"Oh but it is! I mean, I assume. That is...help me out of this?"

Ryan smiles. "What a lovely boat, he said, changing the subject."

"Careful, the paint may not be dry yet."

Ryan tests it with one finger. "No, it is. Recently completed?"

"A few days ago. Will and Kevin have been working on it part time for a couple of years."

"Handcfafted, set up for oars and a temporary sail... I like the color scheme--yellow with white trim, and look, it has a name. Joan's Folly?"

"Joan began the boat--one of her long list of enthusiasms. She was fanatical about the project, and then suddenly lost interest. Will and Kevin just took it over after that."

"It must have brought them closer together. Male bonding, and all that"

"It did. It was a blessing in disguise."

"Of course. So when is the launching of this fine craft?"

"Tomorrow morning. The whold family is going to Lake Nashman for a picnic and the inaugural voyage of the Folly."

"Then I wish you all Bon Voyage."

X X X X X

Later that afternoon, at Skylight Books, Joan is behind the counter while a couple of customers browse. Humpty Dumpty enters. He is wearing a sign board that reads: Skylight Books. The Best Children's Selection In Town.

Joan snickers, "May I help you, Humpty? Or do you prefer Mr. Dumpty?"

"Is my uncle around?"

"Your uncle is Sammy?"

"Yes, is he here?"

"He left at noon and won't be back for the rest of the day."

"Oh great, I need his help. I-I am stuck in this costume!"

Joan snorts with laughter.

"It's not funny. It's really hot in this stupid egg."

"Okay, chill." (Joan laughs again.) "Chill."

Joan walks around the counter and examines the costume. "How does this thing come off?"

"There's a zipper in the back, but it's stuck."

"Oh yeah. Wait... There, I got it."

The top of ther costume opens and out pops an ordinary looking boy of 14.

"Thanks. It was really getting uncomfortable in there. Hey, you're Joan Girardi."

"Do I know you?"

"Nope. I'm Noah Beaumont, just a lowly freshman at Arcadia High, but my brother Brian took me to see the school musical last year. You were great."

"Thanks. So you're Brian's brother and Sammy's nephew? Wow, it really is a small world. How is Brian doing after graduation? Did he get into Princeton like he wanted?"

"Nah, he couldn't swing the financing, so he's attending State."

"Well that's a good school too. So Noah, how do you like Arcadia High?"

"I hate it. All the other kids from my old school went to North High, but because my house is right on the district line, I got sent to Arcadia. I don't know anyone, and I'm living in the giant shadow of my older brother."

"Brian Beaumont's shadow? Really?"

"All my teachers keep telling me what a great student he was, and how popular he was, and how he was involved in so many activities. But me, I'm just this faceless drone in the crowd."

"Hey, you just got started. Give it some time. I started at Arcadia my sophmore year, and I was from Chicago. It was hard at first, but eventually I made friends."

"Well sure. You're a pretty girl, and it would be odd if you weren't popular. But what have I got? I'm so ordinary, I make vanilla ice cream look exciting."

"You've got to keep trying. There were posters up at school announcing a freshman mixer this Wednesday night. You should go."

"I already asked a couple of girls and got shot down both times."

"Go stag."

"I want to stand out from the crowd, but not with the label: Pathetic Loser. I'm...going up to the office to change. Thanks for helping me out of my shell."

"Excuse me?"

"It's an egg costume. You helped me out of my shell."

Noah turns and heads for the office. Joan briefly looks skyward and sighs.

"Noah, what if I went with you to the freshman mixer?"

"Huh, I didn't figure you for the cruel joke type."

"I'm serious. It wouldn't be a date-date. I'd just be doing you a favor."

"That's an amazing favor. I don't want to mislead you. Sammy is just my uncle by marriage, and he's not that fond of me."

"Do you want to go with me or not?"

"Of course! If I show up at the freshman mixer with a senior, I'll have the reputation of being the biggest stud in 9th grade! I can live with that."

"Remember, it's not a real date."

"I know, and thank you!"

Noah turns and runs for the office, letting out a loud "Wah-hoo!" Joan lets her head hang down.

"Can my life get any more pathetic?"

X X X X X

9-18-05/Sunday midday

At the Nashman Nature Preserve, all five Girardis, along with Lily and Grace, are enjoying a picnic lunch. In the distance, Joan's Folly is tied up at a lake-side dock.

Will toasts, "To the inaugural voyage of Joan's Folly. She sailed beautifully, and thankfully didn't leak."

Everyone raises a glass and a couple of "Here-heres" are heard.

Lily adds, "And may she sail safely for many years without sinking. To Joan's Folly."

Everyone but Joan raises a glass and calls out: "Joan's Folly."

Joan complains, "Dad, seriously, you've got to change that name."

Kevin responds, "Why? It fits. Without your goofy idea to build a boat from scratch, we wouldn't be here today."

Luke adds, "And considering how many mistakes Joan made at the start, we're lucky the boat isn't at the bottom of the lake."

"What is this, pick on Joan day?"

Kevin says, "A great idea. I propose that today be an offical pick-on-Joan day. All in favor?"

The entire group responds, "Aye!"

Joan weakly says, "Nay."

"The motion carries. Who wants to start?"

Luke says, "I do! So Joan, I notice you're the only one here today unattached. Lose the new boyfriend already?"

"First, he's not my boyfriend. We only had one date, and if you recall, it ended rather badly. Second, he couldn't come today because he's still recovering."

Grace says, "All he's doing is sitting on the couch watching TV. He could sit at this picnic table just as easily."

"I don't think so. Dylan has gotten kinda weird since the night he was attacked. I called a couple of times to ask if I could come over, but he said no. He said: 'Let's wait until I get back to school.' What's with that?"

Kevin replies, "His pride. He doesn't want you to see him while he's weakened and on the mend."

"But I saw him that night--broken, bleeding and half dead. And again the next day when he was all bandaged and in a wheelchair."

"And that probably scraped away every shred of pride he had. It may be old-fashioned, but a guy needs to feel strong in front of his girl. Trust me, I know."

Lily leans over and hugs and kisses Kevin. She whispers something in his ear and he smiles back.

Will says,"Kevin is right, Joan. Dylan went through quite an ordeal, and after something like that, it takes time to recenter yourself."

Luke adds, "Besides, we don't mind having the family spinster hanging out with us. I'm sure you will date again--someday."

"For your information, I have a date Wednesday night. I'm going to a freshman mixer."

Lily says, "Way to go, Joan! Those college parties can be a blast."

"Too much of a blast. I'm not sure I like the idea of you attending a college party. Will there be a lot of drinking?" Helen asks.

"Uh, actually it isn't a college party. I'm going to the freshman mixer at the high school."

Everyone pauses to stare at Joan.

Grace says, "You can't get into a freshman mixer. Unless, of course, you were the date of a freshman."

Joan sighs. "His name is Noah Beaumont."

Everyone laughs.

Will chuckles, "My daughter, the cradle robber."

Grace snickers, "Talk about being desperate."

Luke asks, "Who is Noah Beaumont?"

"Sammy's nephew. Also Brian Beaumont's little brother."

Kevin asks, "And was he left back several years in a row?"

"No, he's just a nice, 14 year old boy who is having trouble adjusting to a new school. I'm only doing him a favor."

Grace says, "Some favor! This will make his reputation and destroy what little is left of yours."

Joan lowers her head to the table and moans. "Why don't you people go...sail a boat."

Will says, "A great idea. Come on Helen, you haven't gone out on the Folly yet."

"Well, okay, but stay close to shore."

Will and Helen hurry away towards the lake.

Kevin says, "You know, the main trail looks totally do-able by All-Terrain-Kevin. Lily?"

"I'm game if you are."

Kevin and Lily depart.

Luke says, "Grace, this would be an excellent opportunity to uh, collect botanical specimens for AP Biology."

"I'm with you, Dude."

As they begin to depart, Joan--without lifting her head from the table--calls out, "Grace, don't forget a blanket. The ground is full of crawly, stingy things."

Grace grabs a blanket from the picnic supplies. "Smart thinking, Girardi. I knew we kept you around for a reason."

Luke and Grace eagerly hurry away. Joan pauses a moment and then moans again.

"Feeling down, Joan?"

Joan lifts her head and sees Little Girl God, dressed in a Brownie uniform and holding a bouquet of mixed wildflowers. In the distance, Joan sees other Brownies picking flowers under the watchful eye of a den mother.

"Being all-knowing you figured that out? Yes, I'm down. Everyone is coupled, and I sit here a lonely spinster."

"Perhaps you should wait until you are out of your teens before declaring spinsterhood."

"And they were all laughing at me."

"It was just good-natured fun. They all love you very much."

"Do I really have to go to the freshman mixer with Noah?"

"You know you have free will."

"Why do I even bother to ask?"

In the distance, the den mother blows a whistle. Little Girl God hands Joan half of her bouquet.

"Just remember Joan, when you miss the mark, keep trying until you have a bullseye."

Little Girl God begins to walk away, pauses and looks back over her shoulder.

"And let your dad go first."

Little Girl God gives the wave and then runs to join the Brownie troop. Joan sniffs the flowers and sneezes. She lays the flowers aside, lowers her head back to the table and moans again.

X X X X X

Back in Arcadia, in Adam's shed, a large faux clamshell now dominates the room. Adam is on a stool with a sketchpad before him. Glynis is standing nearby wearing a red silk robe.

"It's remarkable you were able to build this shell so fast." Glynis says, her voice quivering with nervousness.

"It wasn't hard. I had all the materials on hand."

"So, I-I guess we're ready to start."

"Yeah, I guess. Be careful getting into the shell, it's not as sturdy as it looks."

"Okay."

Glynis carefully steps into the shell. She hesitates, closes her eyes, removes the robe and tosses it aside. Adam tries not to react. He shifts uncomfortably and begins to sweat.

"As you can see, I went with hair extenders rather than a Godiva type wig. I just fold the hair over like so, position my arm like this, and voila! All the 'naughty bits' are technically covered."

Adam clears his throat. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes. I'm not cold at all."

"Actually, I thought it was a little warm."

"I'm fine. So what do you think?"

"Your pose is perfect."

"I meant my body. I would value an artist's opinion."

"Glynis, you're beautiful. So tall and slender and uh, well-proportioned."

"Thank you. I maintain a rigorous exercise program to keep fit. Am I sounding vain?"

"Not at all. I hope I can do justice to your beauty." Adam says as he wipes sweat from his brow.

"Oh dear, is this too uncomfortable for you?"

"No, no. If I'm going to be a professional artist, I have to get use to these situations."

"I imagine once you get started, the uh, 'tension' will ease."

Adam takes a deep breath to calm himself. "Right. We're begining with a preliminary pencil sketch..."

X X X X X

Back to the Nashman Nature Preserve. Luke and Grace are in a secluded part of the woods, overlooking the lake. They are in the last stages of getting dressed.

"Grace, that was..."

"So much better. How could it be better when it was great before?"

"There is the aphorism: Practice makes perfect."

"Then we should practice a lot more. A lot."

They embrace and kiss.

Grace adds, "No wonder people like sex so much. I wonder if it gets better every time?"

"There must be an optimum level."

"Even so, let's set our goal for a world record breaking level of sexual bliss."

Luke nods. "I'll quantify the experience and start a graph."

Grace laughs. "You probably would."

"So, should we start back? Before the others get suspicious, I mean."

"Nah, let's sit and watch the lake for awhile."

They spread out the blanket and sit watching the lake. Luke puts his arm around Grace and she lowers her head to his shoulder.

Luke cautiously says, "You know, this is kind of romantic."

"Yeah, it is."

"Grace...I'm amazed. Normally at the mention of romance, you launch into a feminist diatribe about it being a male plot to sexually subjugate women."

"What can I say, Geek, you're opening up new worlds for me."

"Oh. In that case, since we're now a pair of romantic lovers, could I ask a favor?"

"Lay it on me Einstein, and it better not be too kinky."

"Could you start calling me by my name?"

"You don't care for my little terms of endearment? Okay, you got it, Lucas-Dwight-Girardi."

Luke winces. "I never should have told you that."

Grace laughs and looks at him amourously. "Kiss me, 'Dwight'."

They passionately kiss...

X X X X X

Meanwhile, Helen and Will are on the lake. They are sitting side-by-side and are also kissing.

"I guess this means I'm forgiven?" Will asks.

"I ought to stay mad at you, but..."

"But I'm so irresistable?"

"That and you grovel really well."

"I've had so much practice."

They kiss again.

Helen warns, "But if you do that again..."

"Please, I'm completely reformed. No more unilateral decisions, even if it means saving your life."

"If my life were ever in danger."

"What do you mean? You were shot at--twice."

"Was I? The target was Ryan. If the shooter had wanted to hurt me, he would have. No one could have missed me frozen in place like that. He only shot when Ryan was near me."

"Yes, but the guy was a lousy shot. He could have hit you by accident."

"He was a lousy shot IF he were trying to kill Ryan, but what if it were only a scare tactic?"

"Where's this coming from?"

"From Dr. Hunter. He suggested the possibility, and the more I mull over the events of that night, the more convinced I am he's right."

"But Reverend Washington was shot."

"By this Paul Atwell character who you said was an expert with a rifle. But the wound was meant to incapacitate, not kill. Just like the shooter outside the Herald was careful not to kill anyone."

"But why?"

"Whoever is behind this knows that if you kill a religious leader, you create a martyr. That makes people fearless in a fight. But if you make a leader look weak or scared, that causes people to lose heart--to lose faith."

"Since the shootings were a part of the pattern of attacks on religious leaders and institutions, someone is trying to shake people's faith in their religions?"

"In God."

"How much further will this go on? First a minister gets attacked with a knife, then one gets shot..."

"Whoa. Who got attacked with a knife?"

"This summer, a Methodist minister was slashed in the face with a knife. We managed to keep that detail out of the news."

"Atwell attacked Joan with a knife."

"Which breaks the pattern. Maybe Ryan was right, it was just a mugging."

"Or maybe Dr. Hunter was right and they were going to kidnap her for a satanic ritual."

"Whichever, the one consistency has been that the same person or place has never been attacked twice."

"So Joan is safe?"

"I'm sure of it. If I weren't, I wouldn't let her leave the house, and that's a unilateral decision I wouldn't back down on."

Helen leans closer to Will and he holds her in his arms.

X X X X X

Meanwhile on the main nature trail, Lily is seated on a tree stump next to Kevin. Kevin speaks...

"We need to talk."

"We are talking. In fact, we've been talking all day."

"The thing is, I am not a cat person. The new apartment I'll be moving into doesn't even allow pets."

"I hadn't planned on bringing them visiting, and if necessary, my room mate can take them over."

"Also, I can't promise I'll ever be a member of the church. The whole organized religion thing is just something I'm not sure of."

"I'm cool with that, as long as we can raise the children Catholic."

"Children? What children?"

"Our children. You were about to ask me to marry you, weren't you?"

"I may have been heading in that general direction."

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is probably a guy thing where you've worked out some speech or romantic gesture. You go ahead, Sweetie. I'll pretend to be surprised."

"Well you ruined it now. I was going to impress the hell out of you by getting down on one knee, but there goes that romantic gesture."

"So far, this proposal is every girl's dream come true."

Kevin takes Lily's hand. "You are the most exasperating ex-nun in the world...also the sexiest. I can't imagine my life being worthwhile without you. But with you, I suddenly see a future worth living. Worth hoping for. Worth striving for. I know I don't have a lot to offer, but my heart is yours forever. Will you marry me?"

Lily wipes a tear from her eye. "Wow, that really got romantic and sweet."

"Waiting for an answer."

"Don't you ever again say you don't have much to offer. You're a great guy."

"Still waiting."

Lily moves over to Kevin's lap and kisses him passionately. "Of course I'll marry you. I love you so much."

They kiss again.

Kevin says, "This is great. I guess this means we have to start making wedding plans. Where--when--and do we really have to wait until the honeymoon?"

Lily playfully smacks his shoulder. "Forget it, Stud. I'm wearing white to my wedding, and it's going to mean something."

Kevin sighs. "Okay...I've waited this long already, I guess I can wait awhile longer. So, should we tell everyone when we get back?"

"Actually, I'd like to hold off for a bit. I need to speak with my parents first and explain a few things."

"You mean you haven't told them I'm in a wheelchair?"

"I haven't told them you exist."

"Why not? We've been dating for months."

"Because they would think it strange to hear that I've been dating at all. I never told them I left the convent."

"How is that possible? You've been out nearly two years. Why wouldn't you tell them?"

"You gotta understand, I was really messed up as a teenager. When I joined the convent at 20, it was the only thing I ever did that made them proud. When I left the convent, I was confused and uncertain. I didn't know if I was leaving for good or for just a short time."

"And you didn't want to tell them until you had committed one way or the other."

"Yeah, and getting married is one of those committed moments."

"Okay, we will hold off telling anyone for now."

"Thanks. Does this make you think I'm some kind of nut?"

"I always thought that."

"Is that any way to talk to your fiancee?"

"My fiancee. That sounds good."

They kiss. Meanwhile...

Luke and Grace are kissing. Meanwhile...

Helen and Will are kissing.

Finally, Joan is still alone with her head on the picnic table. She moans...

X X X X X

Very late that afternoon in front of the Girardi house, Kevin, Lily, Luke and Grace are in Kevin's station wagon, which is pulling the boat trailer. Will, Helen and Joan are in the family Volvo. Everyone begins exiting the cars.

Will says, "Now this has been a good day. One to remember."

Helen comments, "I think we all got too much sun."

Will announces, "Everyone grab some of the picnic stuff before heading inside."

Luke asks, "Dad, is it okay if I walk Grace home?"

"Sure son. Kevin, you and I need to wash down Joan's Folly before we store her in the garage."

Joan protests, "Dad, that name!"

"Alright honey, I promise we will change it."

"Thank you."

Luke and Grace wave goodbye and depart. Will and Kevin begin examining the hull of the boat. Lily helps Helen carry picnic supplies towards the house, and Joan follows them. As they reach the porch, Joan hears something crunch under her foot. She looks down and sees a couple of peanut shells. She picks up the unbroken one and examines it. She then notices a few more leading up to the front door.

"Mom! Don't open the door!"

"Joan?"

Joan rushes to put herself between Helen and the front door. She begins pushing Helen and Lily back.

"Has the kid gone nuts again?"

"Joan, why are you doing this?"

"Trust me. Dad, hey Dad!"

"Yes Joan?"

"Do you have your gun?"

"In the glove compartment."

"Bring it!"

Reluctantly, at Joan's urging, Helen and Lily leave the porch. Will arrives with his gun at his side.

"What's all the excitement about?" he asks.

Joan points to the trail of peanut shells. "We've had a visitor."

Will looks and nods. "Okay, everyone stay here."

Will goes to the front door and turns the knob. The door opens. "Did you unlock it?"

Helen shakes her head. "No, we didn't have time."

"No one else comes in."

"Be careful, Will."

Will, gun at the ready, enters the house. Kevin joins the ladies and the four of them wait anxiously. Time seems to drag forever until will reappears.

"Will?"

"It's bad Helen." (Will uses his cell phone to call for back-up.) "This is Girardi, I need two squad cars, a forensics unit and a homicide team at 2320 Euclid. Right, my address. And sergeant, by the book."

Kevin asks, "Dad, homicide not burglary?"

"There's a man hung with a rope from the upstairs railing."

Helen gasps, "Oh God, Will, do you know who it is?"

"Paul Atwell, the shooting suspect."

Kevin says, "Atwell! But why?"

"Someone is sending us a message. Look, it's going to take hours for the investigators to thoroughly go over the scene. None of you are material witnesses, so it might be best if you put up at a hotel for the night."

Lily says, "Or you could stay at my place."

Helen replies, "Thank you, Lily. That sounds nicer than trying to check into a hotel without any luggage."

"Then it's settled. Kevin? Joan?"

Kevin says, "I have to stay to cover the story."

Helen begins, "But Kevin..."

Will says, "He's right, Helen. It's his job."

Joan says, "And I think I'll go over to Grace's. I can also fill Luke in on what's happened."

"Good idea, honey. Will, I'll call you later."

The group begins sharing departing hugs.

X X X X X

9-19-05/ Monday at dawn

Will is in the kitchen sipping coffee. Joan enters from the back door.

"I'm home."

"Joan, you're back early."

"I din't stay for breakfast. Wow, that coffee smells good."

Joan pours herself a cup and then notices the state of the kitchen. She glances down the hallway towards the front of the house.

"Geez Dad, the place is a mess. Did the cops do this?"

"Some, but most of it was done by whoever broke in. He didn't steal anything, but for some reason, he thoroughly searched the house."

"Somebody went through my stuff?"

"Somebody went through everybody's stuff."

"Eww. I can just imagine some perv doing weird, sick things to my underwear."

"At least then we would have DNA evidence."

"No clues?"

"Precious few. By the way, that was sharp of you to notice those peanut shells and realize what they meant. It spared your mother a trauma she didn't need. If she had seen that corpse hanging in our stairwell..."

Joan shudders and holds up a hand. "Dad please, there are some mental images I don't need. Now, the reason I came home early was because I wanted to discuss something with you."

"About Ryan Hunter doing this?"

"You saw that coming?"

"Everyone who knew about Atwell is going to be questioned. That includes Ryan, Dr. Hunter, your mother, Kevin and you."

"Me? Hey, I've got an alibi. I was with the chief of police all day."

"And Ryan has an unshakeable alibi too. He was running a charity auction all afternoon. The fact is, lots of people knew we were looking for Atwell, including most of the police force, the D.A.'s office, the F.B.I. and the dozens of people we questioned while looking for the man."

"So you won't even consider Ryan?"

"Joan, be reasonable. Even if there were a way around his alibi, why would he do such a thing?"

"Why would anyone?"

"We assume it was Atwell's partner. Somehow he heard about the investigation and killed Atwell to stop us from getting any closer. He then dumped the body in the police chief's house to show his contempt for the authorities."

"And after all of this, I still have to get ready for school."

"Good news there. Neither you or Luke have to go to school today."

"Cool."

"Instead, you'll be spending the day helping your mother by cleaning up this mess."

Joan lowers her head and sighs.

X X X X X

9-21-05/ Wednesday evening

At Arcadia High, Noah Beaumont nervously paces the corridor outside the multi-purpose room. A sign on the door proclaims: FRESHMAN MIXER 2005. Joan, wearing a dark green party dress, rushes up.

Noah says, "You made it. I'm surprised."

"Why? I said I'd be here."

"I know, but I heard about what happened at your house."

"Everyone has heard. The news media was camped on our front lawn for two days. Fortunately, they've moved on to other stories."

"Is everything okay?"

"We're finally getting back to normal. So, shall we go in?"

"After we get our picture taken."

"There's a photographer? I thought this was a casual thing."

"Not an offical photograoher."

Luke and Grace step out from around a corner. Luke is snapping pictures while a proud Noah stands next to Joan.

Grace laughs, "We couldn't let this night slip by without preserving it for posterity. Smile Girardi."

"Okay, you got your photos, now scoot!"

Luke says, "Have you noticed that since Joan has been dating freshmen, she's gotten grumpy?"

Grace replies, "I hear there's a lot of stress in dating much younger men. See ya Girardi--don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Luke and Grace exit, laughing.

"I'm sorry Joan. They said you knew about the photos."

"It's okay. Let's just concentrate on having a good time."

The door to the mixer opens and there is Old Lady God. She is wearing a 'chaperone' ribbon.

"Oh, late arrivals. Tickets please."

Noah hands her a couple of tickets.

"You can go right in."

"Uh Noah, I need to speak with this chaperone for a minute. You go on in and I'll see you soon."

"Well, okay. In just a minute?"

Joan nods and Noah enters the room. Joan quickly closes the door and addresses Old Lady God.

"Thank you for the warning on Sunday. It was bad, but it would have been so much worse if my Mom had walked in on that scene."

"Your father was right. You were sharp to pick up on the clues."

"Well sure, what with the parrot's peanut shells and the warning to let Dad go first. I'm not that slow."

"Then why haven't you completed your assignment?"

"I'm about to. When I go in there, everything will happen like clockwork. Noah will be seen dating a senior, and all the guys will think he's great and will want to be his friend. All the girls will hate me for poaching in their territory and will be irresistably curious about what makes Noah so special. That shell of shyness thing will be totally over."

"I never said shyness. That was your assumption. People put all kinds of protective shells around themselves--shyness, indifference, anger, and of course, secrecy."

"Then Noah's not the one? Then who?"

"Think about it Joan. You'll know."

"Okay, since you say so. But before I go in, there's something I have to know. My family's safety is at stake. Did Ryan..."

"Kill that man? No. And before you ask, nor did he order him killed. Now go to the party before Noah thinks you've abandoned him."

Joan takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and bravely enters.

X X X X X

9-22-05/ early Thursday morning

Joan is on the back patio sipping coffee and watching the sunrise. She hears strange sounds coming from the Hunter's backyard. She walks to the fence to investigate and sees John Hunter practicing archery.

"Good morning Dr. Hunter."

"Morning Joan."

Dr. Hunter lets fly an arrow. It joins four others in the bullseye.

"Wow, you're good."

"Not as good as I once was. I started archery when I was 14. I was a shy kid who had a crush on a pretty girl. She was a member of the archery club, so I joined. I never got anywhere with the girl, but I did make friends in the club. By the time I was a senior, I had won the state championship. This simple hobby broke me out of my shell and made high school an enjoyable experience."

"Out-of-your-shell. So, is it hard?"

"Not really. Like all things, it takes practice. You just have to remember..."

"When you miss the mark, keep trying until you hit the bullseye."

Dr. Hunter is surprised. "The exact phrase I was going to use."

Joan pauses, at first reluctant and then determined. "Dr. Hunter, I have something to tell you. Your brother speaks with God. I don't mean prayer. I mean he clearly sees, hears and talks with God."

"Interesting, and how do you know this, Joan?"

"Because...because I also speak with God."

THE END. PLEASE REVIEW.