A/N:The below mentioned movie scenes are from The Sound of Music, Sixteen Candles, Poltergeist and The Princess Bride. These movies are not my idea, they are the product of awesome screenwriters, actors, and directors and that sort of stuff. Laula-X helped me decide on the name Jared. Please read and review. Thanks!

Chapter 2

I walk down the ceramic pot lined streets of Chicago, confident and joyful. I don't think I've been this happy since I got out of there. THERE, my heart automatically starts pounding at the thought of that place. I'm filled with dread at the thought, but I shake it off. Tonight I do not despair; I celebrate! I take a left and walk past three storefronts before stopping, my head held high and an amazed smile on my face. Finally, no more am I Officer Garrets. I am Detective Jane, twenty-six year old bombshell.

Jared waves me over. He calls out, "Detective Jay, I have our table right here." I smile, excited by the declaration of my new stance. The table is a modern black and white booth. He already has our usually appetizers on the table- pickled ginger and seaweed salad. No, Jared's not my boyfriend. We've known each other since we were little. We're best friends; I don't know what I would have done without him. He would ask, "How did we stay sane in that place?" My answer would be, "I don't know," but I'd really be thinking, "How did I live through that? How did I not kill myself?" I know the answer: Jared. Ever seen When Harry Met Sally? He's my Harry.

I plop down in the vinyl seat and smile triumphantly. I still can't get over it. Detective Garrets. Detective Jane Garrets. Detective Jane Jesse Garrets. Detective Jay. Detective. Detective. Detective. If only Dad could see me now, he'd be so proud. His little Jay is a detective.

Jared prompts, "So? How do you feel? What do you think? Just stop smiling and say something!"

I laugh. "I have to thank that burglar some day; without him I wouldn't be a detective…" I stop there, loving the words I and detective in the same sentence. "God, I'm a detective! I can't believe it!" I squeal.

Jared shakes his head. "I haven't seen you this happy since our high school graduation!"

"I know! I think it's above being accepted into cop school, but just below graduation."

He gets this surprised look on his face. "This is tied with your eighteenth birthday??? I'm shocked, Jay! That's one of the happiest days of your life!"

I laugh and say, "Remember that part in The Sound of Music-"

He finishes, "Where Maria comes back from the abbey and joins in singing My Favorite Things?"

I nod, "Yeah, I think I might be even happier than the kids."

He smiles, "I always loved the part where they're saying goodbye at the party and all the guests move to the other side of the room and wave and sing good-bye. I mean, who would do that in real life? It's so rehearsed that it's hilarious!"

I shake my head, "How many times have we talked about that part? I know already!"

He shrugs, "It's still pretty funny."

I point my french-fry at him, "Yes, it certainly is. You know what's even funnier?" That's the thing about Shanghaied, the restaurant we're eating at. It's most known for its sushi, but it also has the best fries in the whole entire world. Only regulars like Jared and I know this.

He guesses, "Long Duck Dong jumping from that tree and body slamming Jake Ryan?"

I shake my head, "Nope. Keep guessing."

"Ummm, when the mom yells out, 'don't go into the light'?

I shake my head, "Nnnnnope," popping the P.

"Uh, when Miracle Max and his wife say, 'have fun storming the castle'?

I make this sound like a wrong buzzer.

"Jane, I don't know! What?"

I laugh and shake my head, "You have to guess."

Jared is really having a hard time. He finally resorts to bribes, "I'll buy all the eel you want if you just tell me the answer. Please?" He's even batting his eyelashes. Jared has this straight black hair, not like my sort of rich blackish brown. No, his is like this black that keeps going and going. It sucks up all the light that hits it. His skin is a peaches and cream color which is really clear but used to be covered in tons of zits. He bows before his dermatologist daily. He has these hazy green eyes that are a sort of forest green and brown. His eyelashes are long and brown, and so when he does bat them, it's super dramatic.

I finally concede. He knows my weakness; eel is my favorite. "Hannah's face when Detective Banks slapped that new name plate on my desk. I swear, if she'd been anymore jealous, she'd have been green. Karma's action, definitely, especially since she started that rumor about me sleeping with Detective Banks. It was just TOO funny. You should have been there. You'd have loved it."

He rolls his eyes indulgently, "If your office were anymore high school, Hannah would be carrying pom-poms and the quarterback on her arms everyday."

I answered absentmindedly, "Yeah, I know. But your staff isn't exactly mature either. Didn't Mandy threaten to off herself again with the scalpel?" Jared works at the hospital. He's a neurosurgeon. Brain cancer? Jared can fix that. Hole in the skull? Jared can fix that too. Meningitis damage? Jared can probably fix that too. Jared is Mr. Fix-it Man in a white coat.

Jared yells, "Hey! Mandy hasn't tried to kill herself in a good two months, F.Y.I!"

I mumble something about her boyfriend being scared that she'd kill herself if he dumped her again. I ask accusatorily, "Hey, didn't you say dinner was on you when you called me?"

He nods and widens his eyes, trying to be innocent, "Jane, I can't help it if you are exceptionally reckless in your deal making."

I point at him (again with a french-fry lengthening my index finger) and yell, "You are such a cheater! You are SO covering eel next time!"

He smiles, "Hey, remember that time the emo girl-oh, what was her name? Jenna? Yeah, that was it- threatened to stab herself with that probe in biology?"

I laugh, "Oh my God, yes! And then the teacher called the office, and they…" We talk like that for the rest of the night, and I forget what I was even mad at him about.

Jared drives me home- my good old two square-inch house. He has this huge Jeep Wrangler, so I basically fall like two feet before I hit the concrete. He drives away calling out, "Pizza and movies at my place tomorrow! I'll call you with more details later!"

I shout after him, "Gotcha! See ya, Jare!"

I think I hear something like, "Bye, Detective Jay!" but I'm not sure because right then Charlie starts barking. LOUDLY. Charlie, or Charlene, is my Labrador and German Shorthair Pointer mix. I rescued her from a puppy mill in one of my first cases. She was one of many neglected pups. The mother was even worse off. I took her in too. I named her Daisy, but she didn't last the month. She probably would've died the night we rescued her if it wasn't for the anonymous call from the pay phone a block over.

I find my keys in my purse and fumble for the lock. My porch light is covered with so many spider webs, I have a permanent dimmer on the lantern. When I fling the door open, I get attacked by huge paws and a sloppy tongue. This is Charlie. She is my lovable little girl. She is currently training to be a police dog. I can't wait to get her out there with me.

I put my purse down, and take the leash out of the desk in the living room. I hike up the steep, winding stairs up to the bedroom Charlie and I share. Her crate and blanket lay in the corner. My queen is in the middle of the room, its headboard up against the wall. I throw off my supple brown leather jacket onto my bed and push the button to start the flow of missed calls and messages.

I start changing out of my black flare dress jeans and my white and blue pin-stripe button-down shirt. I lay out my paint splattered and fraying jeans I wore while painting earlier this summer and a long-sleeved white sweater. The machine starts in its monotone voice. "You have… 10….. missed calls." I whistle quietly. That's a lot. "You have…. 5…… messages." My forehead scrunches up in surprise; I certainly am popular tonight. Maybe it's a detective thing.

There's one message from Jared at 5:15 asking about the dinner we just had (I got there around six o'clock and right now it's about eight and almost getting dark. I better hurry up if I want to get Charlie on that walk.). Another is from my friend Angie from cop school asking how the burglary arrest went. (I can't wait to tell her about my new status.). Then the strangest thing happens. Detective Banks's voice starts playing. I wonder briefly if he'd heard about the rumor about my bed life… I shudder in horror. If he had heard it…. I could kiss my new name plate good-bye.

He says, "Garrets, it's me, Detective Banks. Call the office. It's urgent." I stop midway through pushing my head through my cable knit sweater. Then the next one, "Detective Garrets, we need you down here. Come down here, NOW." It sounds like a critical problem. I pull my sweater over my head. I'm in overdrive. I need to get down there, like, now. The final message plays. "Damn it, Garrets! We NEED you! Get DOWN here! Don't call first; just run down! I don't care if you are in sweats and a sports bra; just come!" I stuff my feet in my sneakers and fly down the stairs as the final beep that says I have no more messages plays. I clip Charlie to her leash and flip the lock on my way out.

The office is five blocks away. I think I get there in maybe two minutes. I thank God that I have been running at the gym (I am convinced that at some point I'm going to have to chase down bad guys on foot). This feels like nothing to the seven or eight miles I run on the treadmill. I burst through the doors, slightly breathless. Charlie is off worse than me. She can barely catch her breath.

I run down the hall to the room of desks and computers where we always are. Detective Banks is pacing back and forth. The minute I set foot in the office, he's all over me. He's absolutely hysterical. The other officers offer pleasantries as they scurry around the room. Hannah is a different story. She looks over the fingernails she'd just been examining. First, she glances at Charlie with a look of disdain. When she looks me up and down, her expression changes to one of disgust (even more so than normal). I make excuses, "I just got home. I was getting ready to take Charlie on a walk when I checked my messages. I came down here immediately. Sorry that I'm not in appropriate office attire."

Hannah rolls her eyes but says nothing. Banks says, "You're fine, Garrets. Now we need to-"

I interrupt, "So what's the emergency? Hannah break a nail?" I smirk. Hannah gives me this pissed look. Banks rolls his eyes.

He says, "It was the Dog Park. We got a call from a woman in hysterics. Says she was attacked out of nowhere. Just was sitting at the bench, reading, and then a man in black sweats just attacked her. We're suspecting rape, but that's what we need you here for, Detective. You need to go down to the hospital. Interview the victim. Get her to a rape kit. You'll find her in the ICU. She took severe brain damage." He stops there because all the blood has fallen from my face.

Raped. A woman was raped at the dog park. Oh, not again. No. I can't take this. I escaped in 2000. No, I'll face this. He can't control me anymore. He has no control. He's gone. I'll do this. I'll figure it out. I'll be professional about this. This is what I think. The color comes back to my face. Out loud I say, "I'm there."