Dear Sweet Lady

Mort Rainey removed his dark framed glasses and squinted as the light from his desk shown into his eyes. He was exhausted, confused, and most of all lonely.

Chico lay comfortably below his desk, his dark chin placed on Mort's black slipper and his paws sprawled out before him.

"Chico, does this sound stupid?" Mort placed his glasses upon his nose and his chin in the palm of his hand as his eyes studied the sheet of paper that was full of ideas.

At the sound of his master's voice, Chico's head shot up, tilting towards one side and his tail began to wag, thumping the floor beneath him.

"The garden of eternity had finally been born. Next, was something even more extravagant. The ears of corn were not complete without a helping of potatoes, seasoned in their own nutritious value, and rooted in the finest
soil..."

Mort paused, tossing his pencil on the desk, "Cheesy," he answered simply, "...it sounds freakin' cheesy."

Chico moved out from under the desk and stood by Mort's side, jumping to his hind legs, and propping on Mort's thigh.

Mort couldn't help but to laugh a bit, "Boy you are spoiled rotten, you know that?" he ran his hand through the dog's thick fur and allowed a yawn
to escape his mouth, "Insomnia doesn't come easily, does it fellow?"

Just as he grinned down at the beautiful dog, he heard someone knock on the front door.

Mort stared cautiously, "Who could that be at eight p.m.? Doesn't the town have any life during that hour?" His sarcastic remark was directed to his dog that was used to such attention.

Chico followed his leader down the wooden stair case, tail continuing to wag fiercely through the air.

Mort stepped towards the window, pulled the curtain back a bit and stared at the person on his door step.

His eyes were a bit wide and he couldn't believe who stood before him, waiting for the polite gesture that they surely expected.

Mort moved back, allowing the flap of the curtain to hit the pain. His eyes were extremely dry as he allowed another helpless yawn to escape his moist lips, "Shhh," he placed a finger to his lips and whispered, "don't make a sound," his eyes studied Chico.

Chico continued to stare bluntly at his master, his forehead wrinkling a bit. Mort began to wonder if the dog was saner than him.

"Mort Rainey," the sweet voice of the woman from the other side rang out,
"I saw you peak through the window, I'm not that blind."

Mort could sense the irritability and sighed more to himself as he reached for the doorknob, he chided his dog, "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I'm coming," Mort's throat sounded dry and emotionless as he turned the knob and threw the door back, "Hello...Fiona," Mort gave a welcoming, yet fake smile.

Fiona wrapped her arms around her waist, "Hello Mort. Mourning over my sister's death, I still see," she licked her glossed tan lips and stared deep into his greenish brown eyes.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," he shifted his glasses that were upon his nose, "I am."

Fiona's eyes gazed past Mort's head, focusing on the living room, flowing up the staircase, and suddenly stopped. Before she could ask any questions, Mort broke in, "What are you here for, Fiona?"

Her dark blue eyes focused on his, "I honestly came to see how you were doing, may I come in...or are you going to talk to me through the crack all afternoon?" A small smile lit up her face.

Mort couldn't help but to step back hesitantly and then pulled the door open, "Please, do come in." He wasn't sure if that was going to be taken as sarcastic or not, but that was how he meant.

Fiona stepped through the door as Mort closed it behind her, facing her
once more as she began to walk through the living room slowly.

His eyes focused on the suitcase that was clutched tightly in her hand. He swallowed the lump in his throat quickly.

"I'm doing fine," Mort's voice suddenly rang out, his eyes shooting from the suitcase.

"I'm sorry?" Fiona turned on her heel and faced him, her eyes staring questioningly.

"I said I'm doing fine...you asked how I was doing," Mort reminded her, running his fingers through his messy tangled hair.

"Oh, yes, of course," she spoke quickly and gave a small laugh, "Sorry, I'm not all with it today."

"We all aren't," Mort whispered, "please," he motioned towards the couch,
"make yourself comfortable, would you like something to eat or drink?"

Fiona dodged the large coffee table and sat in the dark brown chair, "Uh, no thank you," she gazed at Mort and studied his features. Chico immediately walked over to her, his head held high.

Fiona grinned, "Hey Chico...what are you up to lately?" she ran her fingers over the dog's ears, more like massaging them. Her attention tore from the dog and focused back on Mort.

He'd change since the last time she saw him. The way Fiona remembered him was nice combed hair, sometimes even gelled back. His glasses were always straight and cleaned. His beautiful smile was simply hypnotizing, and he
always had a wonderful since of humor. Not to mention Amy was always hanging on to his arm.

"You look great," Fiona placed her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward, propping her chin in the palms of her hands.

Mort gave a weak thank you smile and sighed more to himself than anyone, "Thank you, so do you."

Mort did not lie. She really was beautiful. She was the total opposite from Amy, which made no sense. They were sisters and only six years apart. Amy's hair was a golden blond, but Fiona's was a midnight black. They were both very attractive. Amy's eyes were dark and mysterious. Fiona's were an ocean
blue and could catch anyone's attention. He hated to admit to Fiona's beauty, especially at a time like this, but it was the truth. How could he lie?

"Have they found him?" Fiona's voice rang through Mort's ears, awakening him from his day dreaming.

"I'm sorry?" Mort's eyes studied her frame as she sat in the chair. She wore a pair of dark denim blue jeans, a tight black sleeveless shirt, and her hair was pulled in a high ponytail, falling down between her shoulder blades, pieces hung over her shoulders.

"I asked if they've found him yet," Fiona was not shocked by his distance,
but rather uncomfortable by his wondering eyes.

"Found who?" Mort's mouth formed and remained in the "O" position as he sat on the couch, waiting for her to finish.

Fiona sighed, "The killer Mort," she refused to go in detail as she leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs, "Did they find Amy's killer?"

Mort quickly shook his head, "No...I don't think so." He looked down at the ground and noticed a glass plate, covered in butter and salt.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he focused on Fiona, "You came all the way to Colorado from Orlando to see how I was doing?"

"Amy," Fiona spoke loudly, trying to get her point across, "was terrified Mort, she didn't want you to get hurt. I wanted to make sure you didn't have a major break down. I heard about what happened when you caught her and Ted."

"You didn't like Ted," Mort changed the topic, "Did you?"

"It's not that I didn't like Ted," Fiona sighed heavily as she shifted on
the comfortable cushioned chair, "I just don't think he was the one for her. You know?"

"Tell me about it," Mort whispered under his breath as he side kicked the plate beneath the couch.

Chico raced to the side of the couch and pried his nose between the floor and furniture. Mort watched as the dog stuck his rear into the air, his front paw scratching at the floor to get to the left over butter that was on the plate.

"Chico," Mort chided, snapping his fingers. Chico's head remained buried under the couch as Mort rolled his eyes, "Chico, go lay down," his voice was stern, "Now!"

Chico jumped and pulled his head from the end of the couch. Fiona sat back, highly amused by the dog and his owners 'connection'.

Chico slumped his head and walked between the couch and chair, moved in a small circle and finally lay down, placing his doggie chin on his paws as earlier.

"Where are you staying?" Mort suddenly broke the silence as Fiona's eyes rested on the dog. She looked up, her eyes piercing into his, "Green Bay Hotel," she answered simply, "You know where that is?"

"Yes," He nodded slowly, "I do...aren't they extremely expensive? Like...80 a night?"

Fiona gave a fake smile, "Yeah, but I have enough money, so I'm fine."

"Look," Mort cleared his throat and stood to his feet, "why don't you stay here? I have an extra room and you shouldn't have to stay in a hotel that cost more than a month supply of food."

Fiona shook her head quickly, obviously objecting, "No Mort, that's not necessary. I mean..." she paused when she saw the long look upon his face, "...that's nice, but really, I can stay in a hotel, I don't mind."

Mort gave a cheesy grin, "But I do...you came here to see how I'm doing, am I right?" He watched as Fiona nodded slowly, "Then you're staying here...you're
here for me, the least you can do is accept my invitation."

Fiona studied his face for a moment. How could she turn this down politely?
What excuse could she make up?

"Ok," she finally gave in, forcing a smile to take on her face, "thank you Mort."

Mort grinned, "No problem," he walked around the end of the couch tugging on his multicolored robe. He shuffled his hair and walked towards the kitchen, "I'll start boiling the corn..."