1Katherine 'Kat' Reisert Rippner found the hidden key under the lawn gnome and unlocked the door of the large, secluded North Carolina coast house. She had sighed with disappointment when she discovered that her mother and father and baby sister Jacqueline weren't home, but blamed herself. After all, Kat knew their hours and had been fooling herself by thinking that they'd be home to greet her, even though it was a surprise visit.

"Mom? Dad?" she called out as she tossed her bag of laundry into the foyer. She knew it was pointless, but she had a strange habit of always calling out the name(s) of the inhabitants before entering. She could never relax until she had done so.

When Kat did it now, she smiled involuntarily at the names. It had been four and a half years since she discovered her real dad, but she had never gotten used to calling Jackson Rippner her father. She didn't think her mother had either. It really was all so surreal.

Kat dropped her duffel bag on the couch and picked up the phone, punching in her dad's cell. It buzzed twice.

"This is Rippner," came the impatient, cold voice of her work dad. She sighed.

"Hello, father dearest, it's your oldest and greatest offspring," Kat chirped. She could almost hear him smile.

"Katie! Hey, sweetie! What are you up to?"

"Talking to you. In your house."

"My house?" he repeated. "You're at the ocean house?"

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be? Even though you're a big Yale girl now, its still your home."

She laughed and grabbed her bag with her free hand to take upstairs, then began the climb. "I know. But still. When are you going to be home?"

"I'm not sure. I'm kind of working.." his voice grew distant and Kat's stomach twisted. She hated even thinking about what he did for a living, as did her mother. They were constantly badgering him to quit, but realized that having an assassin Jackson was better than having no Jackson. They each had a deep, serious love for him that neither was willing to sacrifice for morals.

"Well, just don't be too late, please," she requested. "I haven't seen you in a month."

"Oh, I know," he agreed. "But your mother won't be late, and she'll have Jackie. I'll try to finish things up here and get back." She heard voices in the background and heard him shout, "Fuck you, Crandall! I'll be there in a minute!"

Kat shut her mouth tensely and gazed at Jacqueline's crib through the open door. She loved her baby sister and missed her like crazy.

"Sorry, sweetie. I've got to go."

"I can tell." She didn't bother to hide the bite in her voice this time.

"Kat..."

"You know how I feel, Jack."

"Watch it, Katherine."

"You watch it."

"Where did this mouth come from?"

"From you, remember, Father?" Her disrespect was coming through loud and clear, and she knew she was angering him.

"Whatever, Katie. I have to go. I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah, have fun murdering innocent children, Dad." She hung up on him and slammed the phone into the receiver. She stomped into her bedroom and threw her bag onto her red-bedspreaded bed. She hated him sometimes. She really did. She accredited their nasty little distaste for each other in their common traits. They were so alike sometimes that it was scary. She had his temper, his sarcasm, and his pliable love for being a loner. Kat hated that, but it was an unalienable cause of being her father's daughter.

She began settling in for her long winter break and hung up her clothes in the vast, spacious closet. Kat popped a cd into her stereo, The Fiery Furnaces, and hummed as she unpacked. The phone rang suddenly but she heard it only distantly.

She jogged into the hallway and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Nice chat, Katie?"

She froze and frowned. "Who is this?"

"You know who it is." Kat searched her brain. She had a few friends at school, but they were all girls. This was a guy. It wasn't the cool, slightly raspy voice of her father, nor her mother's shy and sweet voice. Jacqueline couldn't talk. The only relation that they kept in contact with was Lisa's father, and it certainly wasn't his voice. She couldn't think of who else it could be. It was a familiar voice and Kat tried to locate its source. Then it hit her. Her dreams. Her nightmares.

"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You." She fought back fearful tears and ran downstairs. Whoever this was either had tabs on her or her dad's phone and/or was watching him/her/both of them.

"Language, Katie. I raised you better."

She hung up quickly, sucking in breath. Luke. It was Luke. Her mother's ex-husband. He'd been in jail for the past four years, he had a life sentence, so why...Kat raced to the door and swung it open. There was nobody out there, but her eye caught a note clipped to the knob. She breathlessly ripped it off and scanned it with her chocolate eyes.

I'll be seeing you soon, Kat. This never was over. You and your mom...you're mine. And Jack the Ripper will be history.