Chapter 1...October 1990

Elle moaned softly as his hand caressed her bare hip, trailed over her tight flat stomach then moved upwards to gently cup her left breast. She felt warm kisses on her shoulder and up her neck ending just below her ear lobe. She opened her eyes and turned towards Lonnie to give him a passionate kiss only to find herself staring into the face of Gerrick Gable. She tried to scream but his hand clamped down on her nose and mouth cutting off her breath.

Lonnie nearly dropped the cup of hot coffee he had just poured when he heard Elle's piercing scream roll down the hallway and explode into the kitchen. No, no, no …not again. Dear God, not again, he pleaded, throwing the cup toward the sink. He would have a mess to clean up later.

He pounded down the hall, his hand automatically going to the service pistol at his hip. The weapon would be useless, of course. Lonnie knew he couldn't gun down a nightmare.

"Elle?" he called softly, as he entered the bedroom, scanning for intruders just in case.

She was right where he knew she would be; Crouched down between the corner of the room and the bed, plastered against the wall.

As soon as she saw him, she flew up off the floor and into his arms at lightning speed. She had always hugged him tightly and he teased her that she was trying to get inside his skin with him, but this time it was different. He thought she might actually make it this time.

"Shhh...it's just a dream, baby, shhh."

He rubbed her back very lightly and stroked her hair trying to calm her down.

"He's dead! He's dead! Why won't he leave me alone Lonnie?" she sobbed.

The man was indeed dead. Lonnie's shot between his eyes and Bubba's heart shot, almost simultaneously, had made damn sure of that!

What little info the chief had combined with what Jimmy Dawes had dredged up, put Lonnie and Bubba in the right place. If they hadn't gotten there when they did, Elle would be the dead one instead of Gable.

"I got you, Elle. It's ok, babe."

He moved back slightly and looked into her big brown eyes ...eyes that once sparkled with intensity and mischief were now distant and haunted. A single tear slipped over the lower lashes of her left eye and rolled slowly down her cheek. Lonnie wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. He hated to see her this way. When she cried for any reason, it damn near tore him up every time. Her trembling eased and she loosened her grip on him.

"Better now?" he asked. She nodded slightly, lowering her eyes to look at his shirt.

She raised her eyes to his again and softly spoke. "Maybe I should talk to someone like Althea suggested. What do you think?"

"I think it would be a good idea, Elle. It might stop these dreams."

"Ok, ok, let me think about it some more."

Lonnie nodded.

It must have been a bad one. Not that the rest hadn't been but her response to this one was worse than the others.

He smiled down at her. "Want to help me clean up that disaster I just made in the kitchen?" He got a small grin in return.

"What did you break?" she asked. "I thought I heard something shatter but wasn't sure if I had imagined it or not."

"You didn't imagine it. I threw one of your china cups into the sink. Sorry, babe."

She slapped at him playfully. "My grandmother's china cups, you mean!"

"Better watch out, Mrs. Jamison! I can run you in for spousal abuse, you know," Lonnie quipped.

"Yeah right! Like anybody will believe that bogus charge! I treat you like a king!"

The light was back in her eyes. Now this was his Elle! He loved her with everything he had and he wanted her back permanently, not just the occasional glimpse he got since Gable. He watched the shine fade and her eyes turned flat again. Damn you, Gable! You son of a bitch! Why Elle? Why my girl? But Lonnie knew why. It had all been for payback.

"Leave the disaster. I'll get it," she said.

She turned to straighten the bedding but froze as she reached to grab it. Stepping back from the bed, she said, "You can make the bed!" Turning away from him, she hurried to the bathroom and shut the door.

Her reaction to this dream, and the bed, had Lonnie worried about her more than usual. Once she settled down a little more, he had some questions this time. Most of her nightmares he never spoke about again, but this was one he needed answers to. He grabbed a handful of bedding and began to make the bed when he heard the bathroom door open. Looking up, he saw Elle standing propped against its jam with her bottom lip quivering.

"Get that counselor's name from Virgil," she said.