Chapter 1 – The Beginning

"This heat is gonna kill me. I can barely breathe." He said for what must have been the tenth time that morning.

He was one of the new guys. Most of the other crew members didn't bother to learn his actual name, so they just called him Break-Time, because if he wasn't complaining about the heat, the cold, the dust, the lack of a regular food truck and so on, then he was asking when they were due for another break.

"Why would they wait until the hottest day of the year to finally break ground?" He grumbled to nobody in particular.

It was mid-May and the temperature was expected to get up to 90 degrees. It was certainly not characteristic of Georgia. The little overcast that they currently enjoyed was quickly dissipating and making way for the sun in all its glory.

The work crew had been there since 4:00 in the morning, it was now 8:00, and most of the men were not in good spirits. This was a job that was supposed to begin five months earlier, and here it was May. Most of the usual crew members that worked for Gregory Construction had been hired on with other construction crews, so many of the men, on this particular day, did not know each other very well, if at all. This job was supposed to have started in December, during Winter Recess while the kids were out of school. The men in the Construction Company were excited because working during the holiday meant double pay, but low and behold, the city or school district, the guys didn't know which, dragged their feet getting the permits, so here they are; extreme heat and No extra pay.

"Come on guys!" Shouted Dale Horvath, the job foreman. "The sooner we get things set, the sooner we can call it a day."

Dale was a well-liked man. He looked good for his age, which the guys put at around 60. His hair was mostly grey with some wisps of chestnut. It had probably been about 20 years since his hair was more chestnut than grey. He had a permanent tan, which undoubtedly had come from years of working in the sun. The men all respected him because though he was tough, he was always fair.

"I know you guys are ready for a break," Dale said looking in the direction of five of his men sitting on a nearby railing immersed in conversation "but let's get the final area marked off then we can get this show on the road."

The overall lackluster mood seemed to shift among the men, at the thought of actually moving the show along. For the next hour or so the worksite was humming along like the well-oiled machine that the Gregory Construction crew generally was.

"Hey!" came a shout from one of the men working inside of the building that was the current focus.

"Hold up!"

The men all turned to the direction of the shouting- annoyed at yet another stall.

"There's something there!" James, one of the new guys shouted. The dust covered his clothes, shoes and a good portion of his uncovered arms.

"I said there's something in there!" He exclaimed with more agitation in his voice.

"OK everyone…Hold on. James…what the Hells goin on?!" A tired and annoyed Dale shouted over to the area that had finally begun to look like progress was being made.

"What the Hell!" He said once again as he slowly began to make his way over to the area. James knocked dust off his pants as he walked towards his boss. He picked up his pace, walking hurriedly in fact, as Dale noted, and certainly much faster than was acceptable on an active work-site. Dale's face turned from annoyance to…concern, when he took note of the look on James' face.

"What's goin on?" The older man asked of his much younger laborer.

The silence that probably only lasted for seconds, seemed to have gone on for an infinite amount of time, ended with James' whispered words.

"I think you need to see this," He shakily forewarned his boss.

Dale looked at the young man with an odd consternation, but something told him not to ask the question. They walked back in the direction where James had just come. A few men fell in line behind them and they all walked in an odd silence to their destination.

Tyler, one of the crew members who'd worked with Dale for the last eleven years, quickly made his way over to the foreman.

"You need to see this." Tyler said in his most calmly frantic voice. The words that he didn't say were spoken in no uncertain terms all over his face – fear.

"What the fucks goin on Tyler? Every time we get this shit ship rolling there's yet another stall." He barked.

"You…you…just follow, I mean…come with me." Tyler stuttered out.

Dale pushed his way through the few guys that were blocking the view of something that he was not yet privy to. He got to the front of the men and looked down in the direction where all eyes were focused. He looked at a blue polo style shirt, or at least it was once blue – age had added a yellowish hue. In line with the shirt was a pair of jeans which had also been aged to an odd shade of brownish blue. Dales face frowned as he made a quick and uncomfortable assessment of what he was looking at. Within the clothes were the unmistakable skeletal remains of a human male.

Dale stumbled back, horror on his face, shaking his head. He removed his hard hat and ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair. The men all looked away from the grim site before them with their focus planted on the boss that they all respected as he ran his hand between his face and his hair. He said in an almost whisper…

"It ….it can't be…that's…that's…Johnny Anthony…Oh My God… That's Johnny Anthony."

"Happy Birthday to ya…Happy Birthday to ya…Happy Birthday." She sang in her most melodic voice.

"Thank you mom." Michonne said to her mother-in-law. "You are always the first one to call me every year. You know I love you right." She told her in a whisper.

It was five o'clock in the morning and Michonne was barely waking up. By this time she would usually be up, but she decided that just for today, today especially, she would give herself a few extra minutes in bed.

"The obsessive need you have to be the first person to wish me happy birthday is beyond insane…you realize that right?" She laughed as she began to stretch her legs.

"I beg your pardon…it's not crazy or obsessive," she paused, "I just love you more than everyone else," Jacqui said with a chuckle.

"You are too much. I have no idea what I'm gonna do with you." She laughed again at her mother-in law.

Michonne and Mike Ridoux had been divorced for six years. Theirs was a very amicable divorce. No overtly unkind words spoken no accusations of inappropriate dalliances, no arguments over property or finances, no drama. They just simply stopped communicating and fell out of love…if they were ever truly in love. Theirs was a friendship that turned romantic, then became solely romantic, then became…well…neither. They worked hard over the last several years, before and after their divorce, to make it back to friendship. But Jacqui Ridoux stayed as far out of their marriage, and subsequent divorce, as she possibly could; she simply loved her daughter-in-law. They had been through a lot together. Years of love and mutual respect didn't and doesn't just go away simply because dissolution papers are signed.

Michonne held Jacqui's hand when she began her radiation treatment after the breast cancer diagnosis, and cried with her when Jacqui was told she was cancer free. Michonne gave the first toast of the evening at Jacqui and Lawrence Ridoux's 40th wedding anniversary party. And, Michonne sat between Mike and Jacqui on the first row of the church pew, left fingers laced with Mikes and right hand rubbing Jacqui's arm during the home going service of Lawrence before they laid him to rest three years ago. Yes, they were most certainly family.

"So what do you have planned for today baby girl?" Jacqui inquired.

"Nothing big…I'm still going to work, but maybe I'll go and get a mani-pedi after…, ooh, hold on a second," Michonne said as she glanced down at her phone to see the incoming call.

"Let me call you later, my other mom is calling," she said with a snicker as she prepared to push the green icon.

"Okay sweetie, enjoy you day. I love you." Jacqui said as she released the line.

"I love you too. Talk with you later," Michonne said as she accepted the incoming call.

"Hey Mom," she said enthusiastically.

"Happy Birthday honey. How are you?" Her mom Patricia asked.

The question was one of simple formality because she already knew the answer. Patricia knew that her daughter was not excited about her birthday and had been somewhat depressed lately.

"I'm good." She sighed, "I could use a couple more hours of sleep though. I just talked to Mom Jacqui." Michonne shared.

"I figured she'd already called. I know her need to call you first." Patricia laughed.

Patricia and Jacqui had a very cordial relationship. No one would ever accuse them of being best friends, but they had a mutual respect and compassion for each other. The love of their grandson was the unseen indestructible thread that tied them together. Andre truly was the love of both their lives, and for that reason alone, their bond was unbreakable.

"Yeah, she's consistent if nothing else," Michonne replied.

She continued to talk to her mother about her plans for the day while she began her morning routine. After she made her way downstairs to start breakfast for Andre, she headed to the laundry room to grab the clothes out of the dryer.

"Well I'm glad you're gonna do a little self-pampering today." Her mom continued, in reference to the pani-pedi.

"Hold on one second mom…Andre!" she shouted. "It's time to get up!"

There was no sound or movement from her son's room as she headed back upstairs.

"I thought school was over." Her mom inquired.

"It is, but he's going to the office with me today. I'm not letting him hang out at home all day…especially with his behavior as of late." She tells her mom with a frustrated sigh.

"Look mom, let me go. I'll talk with you later"

"Okay honey. Just don't be too hard on him." Her mom implored.

Over the last few months Andre had been in trouble at school for a number of different reasons, but most having to do with his mouth. He was not one to back down, especially if he thought he was right. Unfortunately, his teachers did not appreciate that part of his personality. He was an A student, which made it that much harder for his teachers to control or placate him. Mike and Michonne met with his principal and teachers so often that they had dispensed with all formalities and referred to each other by their first names. Michonne even went to happy hour with a few of teachers on occasion. It was actually during one of their nights at happy hour that Mrs. Jones, Andre's history teacher, mentioned a program to Michonne that's run through the Sheriff's Department in conjunction with the Atlanta Police Department for high achieving students who may have issues as they transition on to high school.

"I won't mom. I love you." Michonne said as she quickly rushed to hang up before her mom could dive into her defense of Andre, espousing how it's probably the teachers, not Andre, with the problem. The child could really do no wrong in her eyes.

She spent the next hour locking horns with her son; the ultimate power struggle. He had no intention of going to work with her without letting his point of view be heard. Andre was 13 years old and pretty sure that not only did he know everything, but shame on everyone for not recognizing that very clear and true fact. He planned to be a lawyer, like his mom, but unlike his mom, he didn't plan on stopping there. His plan was to be a Supreme Court justice, like his idol Thurgood Marshall, so that he could help shape laws and make the world into a place that makes better since…to him at least.

"I'm not going to keep debating this with you. Go on and get your clothes on so-," she paused when she heard her phone.

"Let me go get that. You get ready boy…No more conversation." She said as she ran to her bedroom to grab the phone. As she picked it up, she saw Mike's picture on the screen.

"Hey," she said almost out of breath.

"Hey to you…Happy Birthday. You sound like you're spent already and it's not even seven yet." Mike observed.

"I was downstairs. Just ran up here to get the phone. I've been in an argument with your son for the last hour…I'm ready to send him off to boot camp on a faraway island." She said in an exasperated groan.

Her growing frustration with their son was nothing new to Mike. Over the last year the three of them had been having regular conversations about their child's mouth. Mike tried his best to be the buffer between his son and ex-wife, but her strong will and stubbornness could only be matched with his. They were almost too much alike to co-exist in the same abode without some kind of intervention.

Everyone always remarked at how much Andre looked like Mike. He had Mikes complexion, Michonne use to call Andre peanut, because he was the color of a peanut and just as yummy she'd always say – back when she still liked him, he had hair like his father and it certainly looked like he was gonna get his father's height. He even had his father's hands. The only thing, without question, that he took from his mother… were her eyes.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" He offered. "I hate for you to sound so perturbed, especially on your birthday. And, speaking of your birthday, what do you have planned?" Mike asked.

"In answer to both your questions, yes, please talk to your son. And, as for my birthday plans, I don't think I'll do much. Maybe get my nails done after work. It's just another reminder that I'm that much closer to aching joints, gray hair, and death." Michonne deadpanned.

"Uh…Okay, I see you're not in the best of spirits today. Where is all that coming from?" Mike inquired with just a touch of concern.

Michonne didn't respond. She realized that she shouldn't have gone on that mini rant with Mike on the other end of the line. Even though they were divorced, he still felt a strong sense of responsibility towards her. When she was out of sorts, no matter the reason, he believed that it was his job to fix the situation. They were friends. He really wanted her to be happy. He had moved on with his life. He'd had a few different girlfriends since their divorce and had dated quite frequently. His current girlfriend, Sherry, was the one though. Michonne was pretty sure that he'd ask her to marry him before the year was over. But, she on the other hand, had not yet allowed herself to open up to another man.

"Look, do you want me to take you and Andre out to dinner tonight? We can go to that restaurant you like," asked Mike.

"Thanks for the offer Mike, I appreciate it. But I'm gonna just get my nails done, pick up a nice bottle of wine, and find a movie on Netflix. If you want to pick up Andre for the night…that would be wonderful," she said with a little giggle.

Maybe the little venting did make her feel better. She appreciated her relationship with Mike and his concern for her, but right now, she felt lost for some reason. She loved work, but right now it was not satisfying her. She loved her son, but right now he was just driving her crazy. She loved her friends and family, but right now, they were just not enough. Right Now…nothing was…Right. She knew, though she hadn't actually expressed it verbally, that the lack of true intimacy in her life was becoming her undoing. She didn't miss sex…well Yes she Did, but she definitely missed the intimacy of simply having someone hold her hand. She missed the eyes of a man that could look into her eyes with the conveyance of understanding…as well as passion.

There was no doubt in her mind that going out with Mike would lead to him feeling the need to fix her, and her need would allow it. It would be a mistake. Though they had been good together on a sexual level when they were married, the intimacy that she needed, that she longed for, was not there. They had worked hard over the last several years to truly be friends and she didn't want her feelings of emptiness to lead her to do something that could undue, or at the very least, confuse their relationship.

"Okay," Mike agreed. "I know you're taking him to work with you, so I'll pick him up from your job around lunchtime and he can spend the night with me. Plus, I know you're supposed to meet that sheriff's deputy about the program you wanna put him in. I can meet with him for you if you want. Just text me all the info."

After she gave her phone to Andre she continued getting ready for work. She turned on some soft music while doing her morning workout. Today would just be some squats, crunches and push-ups. She decided not to do her whole routine because of the lack of time. All the time dealing with her stubborn teenage son had put her behind. She then jumped in the shower. Upon getting out of the shower she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She admired her reflection. The woman looking back at her was beautiful. Even in the midst of her own personal pity party, she could still appreciate her comeliness…her elegance.

She saw her toned body that she worked hours every week to achieve, she saw breast that held up pretty well after nursing Andre for just over a year, she saw not marks or blemishes and her locs though she thought were getting a little too long, looked very polished. She didn't always take the time to admire her appearance, but today she did. She didn't know what a 37 year old woman is supposed to look like, but she figured she looked pretty good for her age.

She then glanced down at her hands…perfect creamy dark chocolate. Did they always look like this? Were they the hands of a 37 year old? Do they look like her mother's? She then stared down at her left hand, at her ring finger…the memory of when it once adorned a beautiful gold band with small encrusted diamonds and rubies, Mike had the ring made special for her- the rubies were her grandmother's birthstone. She felt a sudden rush of sadness, regret, heartache and…something she barely recognized – longing. Looking back at her reflection the problem with her body was clear- had she never recognized it before…it was her eyes. She had sad eyes…what is going on with me?

"Mom!" Andre's shout jerked her out of her reverie.

She heard him just outside her bedroom door. He was at an age now where he no longer just walked into her room. The idea of seeing her less than fully dressed was gross beyond words to him. He also made it clear that she was not to walk into his room without knocking either. The idea of her seeing him less than fully dressed was equally disturbing and gross beyond words.

"Mom, are you ready to go?" His tone that of indignation. "Dad said he's picking me up from your office, and he said to apologize to you for talking back...oh and happy birthday by the way."

Wait…so was that my apology…

oooooo

As they drove to her office, located in downtown Atlanta, they rode in silence. It was already shaping up to be a pretty hot day. At just 7:00 it was almost 80 degrees. Andre was fiddling with his phone. Michonne watched as they entered into the city; watching as her view went from that of single family dwellings and apartment building to that of small office buildings giving way to large skyscrapers.

She pulled into her assigned parking stall, took a deep breath before exiting her car, knowing without a doubt that her co-workers would make a big deal about her birthday. Normally she would be on board with any and all celebrations, but this year she was just…out of sorts.

"Andre," she turned to her son before he could jet out of the car and over to the elevator. "As soon as we get in there, we'll go over what you can work on until your dad gets here. I'm sure Glenn has lots of stuff you can work on." She told him without looking directly at him, knowing that he was probably rolling his eyes.

Glenn Rhee was one of the paralegals in the office and he and Andre had a very good relationship. Glenn was impressed by how smart and intuitive the young man is, and Andre thought Glenn was cool.

"Fine mom…Now can I go?" He wasted no time in biting back.

Blake, Pelletier & Brooks was one of the most highly regarded law firms in Atlanta. It was not a firm that handled high profile cases or cases that garnered any type of large pay out, but they were highly regarded because they handled many cases within smaller and urban communities where the residents didn't generally have an opportunity to get the best legal defense.

The office was massive. The partners had offices along the exterior, where they had their very own windows overlooking all of downtown Atlanta. There were five smaller offices for each of the associates; Michonne had been an associate for Blake, Pelletier and Brooks for seven years. The entire center of the massive office consisted of various desks and cubicles for the secretaries, office assistants, accountants and paralegals.

Well, her co-workers definitely did not disappoint. True to form, Michonne walked into an office that was fully and completed decorated in birthday adornments. The office was filled with balloons, streamers, and banners. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHONNE flyers and posters were pasted up along all the walls of the office common area, as well as her own office.

As much as she didn't want to celebrate this year, she couldn't help but be taken aback by the effort and kindness that was put into all the decorations. She was truly touched.

"Honestly I don't know what to say," she said as she exited the elevator to a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday belted out by her co-workers. She refused to cry, which is exactly what she wanted to do.

"I can't believe you guys did all this." She said in a near whisper. She looked over and at her son who was normally unimpressed by most things that adults did, but took note of how truly impressed he appeared- Wow, he actually looks like he's choke up…

"We just wanted you to know that we appreciate you Michonne." Carol Pelletier spoke up. She was one of the partners and someone that Michonne considered a true friend.

"We all love you." Shouted Maggie Greene, one of the firms associates. Maggie started at the firm the same year as Michonne; Michonne, Maggie, Rosita Espinosa, Sasha Williams, and Tara Chamblers made up the associates team at the firm. They called themselves, unofficially of course, the Lipstick Dream Team. They were all good friends, and because of the late hours that they worked most days, they really had become each other's best friends.

"I love you guys too." She said as she quickly made her way to her office. If tears did fall, she certainly did not want it to happen in front of the entire office.

After the fanfare and enjoying the birthday breakfast that Carol had ordered, the work day was under way. Michonne looked over and saw Andre happily working with Glenn. She began looking over the case she was currently working on regarding housing discrimination when she received a text from Mike letting her know that something had come up at work and he needed her to take Andre to the meeting with the sheriff's deputy. He informed her that he would meet them there, hopefully before the meeting was over. The girls wanted to take her out for drinks after work, instead the mani-pedi plan, so she was hopeful that Mike would make it there to pick up Andre. Maybe this will end up being a pretty good birthday after all.

oooooo

Driving over to the Sheriff's Office, she was lost in thought when Andre shook her arm…

"Mom, did you hear that?" he asked in his excited and mildly frantic voice. He was pretty sure that she wasn't paying attention to the radio, even though she's the one that turned it on. She turned to him with a tinge of annoyance.

"Huh?" she mumbled.

"Did you hear that?" he repeated.

"They found a body buried under my school this morning."

oooooo

"Where's Carl!"

Rick Grimes shouted over to the group of teens that were playing softball in the park located near the high school. He was on his lunch break and drove over to the park to give Carl money for lunch. As he approached the group of teens he made a quick assessment of the area. Having been a sheriff's deputy for almost twenty years it was essentially second nature for him to survey his surroundings at all times.

"Have you seen Carl Grimes?" Rick directed his question to one of the teen boys who looked somewhat confused by the question.

"Uh… I think he's over there." The pimply faced teen pointed and looked in the direction of the small bleachers which sat on the other side of the baseball diamond.

The first thing he noticed was the complete lack of adult supervision. The next thing he took note of was that his son was not amongst the kids that were broken up in two teams. Carl sat on the small bleachers with a teen girl. Even at a distance Rick could see the smitten look on his son's face. This was obviously a girl he liked…more than a friend.

Carl was just shy of his 14th birthday and already nearly as tall as his father. It was as if unseen hands had come down, attached a string to his head, and pulled him straight up. He was definitely a gangly teen. His dark brown hair had gotten so long that it almost rivaled that of the young girl he was presently googling. Rick was trying to let him start making his own decisions about certain things, one of which he figured should be his hair. Rick planned to broach the subject of a haircut again…just not right now.

After his divorce three years ago he applied for, and was easily promoted to, a new position as the liaison between the Kings County Sheriff's Department and the Atlanta Police Department in the youth education and enrichment program; put together through a joint task force to target boys with the potential for great success, but who had the possibility of slipping through the ever widening crack of the educational system.

Rick retained his home in Kings County, but lived during the week days in a modest sized apartment in Atlanta. Carl had been attending middle school in one of Atlanta's more affluent school districts for the past two years. Though he had shared custody of Carl with his ex-wife Lori, their son spent most of his time with Rick. He saw his mom mostly on the weekends.

"Carl!" Rick shouted over in his son's direction.

Carl looked up and smiled over at his dad. He leaned down and whispered something to his young female friend before beginning his walk towards his father. Although he and his dad didn't always see eye to eye, he still had a very close relationship with him. It was it preference to be with dad. He loved his mom, I mean, she's mom, but his dad was also like his friend as well as just his dad.

"Hey dad…What's up?" Carl exclaimed happily upon reaching his father.

"Hey son…I just came over to give you a little money in case you wanna get something to eat…or, buy your little friend some ice cream." He smirked while ruffling his son's hair and glancing over to the bleachers where Carl's girl friend was still seated.

"C'mon dad," he bashfully retorted, "Stop."

"Okay Carl. I'll leave it alone…for now at least." Rick raised his eyebrow at his son with a smile as he looked into Carl's deep cerulean eyes…eyes which mirrored his own.

"By the way, where are the adults? There are supposed to be at least two deputy cadets here with you guys at all time. I looked around and there's nothing but teens and pre-teens around here." Rick said as he did another scan of the area.

"I don't know. I saw them walking over to the Mart a little while ago. Maybe they're still over there." Carl assumed while also looking around.

"Okay, well I'll deal with them later. Here's some money." He said while pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He handed his son a few crisp bills and watched him stick them down into his pocket.

"Thanks dad." He happily exclaimed.

"Oh dad…wait, what's going on over at the school? We saw all the news vans and the police have the whole area around the school blocked off. Is it true that they found a body under one of the classrooms they tore down? Who is it? Is it a man or a woman? Can I-"

"Carl," Rick interrupted his son's harangue with a slight chuckle.

"Hold on there son. First of all, you probably know as much as I do right now. With social media and all, by the time this day is over, you'll probably know more than me. Plus, you know there ain't much I could tell you even if I did know anythan." Rick said with his most southern drawl…which tended to slip out periodically.

"But dad-" Carl attempted to continue, but was cut off by his father.

"No but dad's…look I need to get goin'. I have a new young man starting the program and I'm meeting with him and his parents." He stopped and looked down at his watch, "in about ten minutes." He said as he began to start his walk back to the parking lot.

"The van will drop you off at my office at 4:00 as usual, so I'll see you then." He ruffled his son's hair once more as he headed away.

oooooo

As she pulled into the sheriff's lot, Michonne glance down at her cell phone to both see the time, and to see if she'd received any text messages from Mike while she was driving. She was definitely hoping that he would make it there before they were done meeting with the deputy. Andre had spent most of drive there complaining about having to be in the program. The program was really for troubled kids and he wasn't troubled, he was just smarter than his teachers and they resented him for pointing out their inability to support their assertions. Michonne was really ready to put him out on the side of the road.

She parked the car and began gathering the paperwork that she had put together to give to the deputy, just so that he could get a true sense of who her son is. She slipped back on her heels, she generally slipped them off when she drove, and opened the door when her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down at the phone, surprised that it was her mom and not Mike - that's who she was hoping it was, she answered.

"Hey mom…what's up?" She inquired as she waved to Andre to get out of the car.

There was silence on the line.

"Mom," she said again hurriedly, wanting to quickly tell her mother that she'd have to call her back.

Silence…but the sound of hurried breathing.

"Mom…are you there?" she inquired with panic slightly rising.

"Honey….I need you to come over to the house….I….I….need you to come over now." Patricia shakily mumbled.

"Why…what's goin on?" Her worry reaching its peak.

"I need you to come home." She said in a whisper.

"What's wrong mom? What's wrong?" Michonne said in a panic. She knew her mother better than she knew anyone and there was no doubt in her mind that something was seriously wrong. She didn't realize that she'd been standing in the middle of the parking lot until a car lightly honked at her. Her son went immediately to her side.

"Baby, I need you to come home…it's…they…they found your dad baby," Her mom said before she went silent. Michonne knew that she was silently crying. Crying the tears that Patricia had probably not shed for many years.

Before Michonne could say anything else, almost afraid of what the answer might be, she looked up and saw Mike walking towards her. He mouthed what's going on. She nodded her head and looked away from him.

"Okay mom. I'm on my way." She said without further discussion then released the line.

She looked up at Mike and over to Andre. Both wore unabated concern all over the face.

"That was my mom…I have to go. I have to go. Can…can you meet with the deputy and give him this information about Andre." She said as she handed Mike the folder and began walking towards her car.

"What's wrong?!" He shouted over to her. Hoping she would stop so that he could make sure she was Okay.

Without stopping she shouted back… "I DON'T KNOW!"

oooooo

"Mr. Horvath," the young officer continued, not looking up from his notepad.

"Your men said that you know this man, that you said his name is…" the officer trailed off as he fumbled through his notes.

"Johnny Anthony. You said his name is Johnny Anthony."

The sun was now up and out in all its majesty. The entire area surrounding the school had been cordoned off. News crews were on the other side of the tape clamoring for someone from the police department to make a statement. Word had gotten out about the improbable find after one of the crew members, Dale is pretty sure that it was Break-Time, tweeted out a bunch of different hashtags - body found, worksite, school – didn't take long for people to figure out what was going on.

"No, I didn't know Mr. Anthony." Dale frowned, sighed, and continued to rub his hand over his face and through his hair.

"Then-" the officer started but Dale cut him off.

"I never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Anthony young man." He reflected then continued.

"But everyone who was around Atlanta thirty years ago remembers him…or at least when he disappeared. His disappearance made national news, but us local had a first row seat. And…and the clothes on the remains over there- he pointed to the area now swarming with officers and forensic scientists- are the clothes he was wearing when he was last seen. The description was given over and over again. It was… is…etched in my brain."

Dale paused as he took a moment to truly consider his words…

"You know, he was an attorney working for a black teacher who was suing the school district for wrongful termination when he disappeared. The city was a powder keg back then…maybe still is one." He proffered and shook his head. And quietly said…

"I hope this isn't the spark."

ooooooo