Disclaimer: All 'You Belong to Me', 'My Gal Sunday' and 'While My Pretty One Sleeps' characters belong to Mary Higgins Clark and publisher Simon & Schuster, and whoever else can legally lay claim to them. I am making no money from this story. I am simply borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes. Please do not sue as I mean no copyright infringement, and have no money to fight a lawsuit, much less pay for the rights for the use of anything.

SPOILER ALERT If you have NOT read 'You Belong to Me' by Mary Higgins Clark, be warned that the following material reveals several plot developments and the identities of villains contained within said novel. If you do NOT wish to have these details revealed, do NOT read this fan fic. Instead, run out to your favourite bookstore or library and get your hands on 'You Belong to Me'. After you're done reading that, return here immediately and find out what happens next (in my world) to the characters...(you just thought it ended where it did)...Further, some other MHC characters will be making 'guest appearances' which might also lead to the revealing of plot lines from their respective stories.

The reader will note that the setting for this story is New York City, which stays true to the author's original setting. Out of respect and sensitivity for the victims of the attacks on the World Trade Center, absolutely no mention will be made of that tragic event in this story.

You Don't Know Me

1

"This is Dr. Susan Chandler, thanking you for joining me today. Don't forget to tune in Monday morning where we'll be discussing how to help the elderly avoid being victimized by con artists and scams. It is an important issue that needs to be addressed, so I hope you'll listen in. Until then, have a safe and happy weekend."

A familiar musical theme played in Susan's headphones as she removed them and watched as the 'on air' signal flashed off. She collected some papers on the desk in front of her, and stood up to leave the studio. That ended this week's instalment of 'Ask Dr. Susan', an advice program that Susan, a clinical psychologist, had hosted for the past four years.

The producer of the program, Jed Geaney, opened the studio door for her, and as was customary, congratulated her on a show well done. "I know I say it all the time, Susan: good job today."

"Thanks, Jed," she replied, picking up her shoulder bag, slipping past him. Knowing he sincerely meant the compliment, Susan had long ago ceased making a customary, self-effacing reply. "See you on Monday."

"By the way, when does Don's flight get in?" Jed asked her.

"This evening, around six," she replied. 'Don' was Dr. Donald Richards, Susan's husband of two years. The two had met on Susan's show when he was a guest, commenting on his best-selling book, Vanishing Women.

"Our listeners always miss him when he's not here with you for his regular Friday stint," Jed commented.

"I always said Don could replace me in a second, even from that first time he was on my show," Susan smiled at the memory. Don had admitted then he enjoyed being on her show, and that it was probably the 'ham' in him that made it so much fun.

"He misses being here Fridays, too."

I miss him being here, Susan thought fervently.

It had taken her a while to admit to herself, but after the horrible events that happened three years ago, Susan had come to fully realize how much she truly needed and loved Don. And to think it all started right here, she thought.

Saying a final farewell to Jed, Susan left the radio station and hailed a cab. Giving the address of her office in Central Park West, she sat back and, as was customary, mentally planned the rest of her day. As usual, she had clients all day until 5, but for a change this evening, there would be a quick dash home to freshen up before meeting Don at the airport. Together they would grab a bite to eat. At least she hoped that would be the plan. The latest weather report was predicting a snowstorm, which while not uncommon for the season, would probably bring the airports to a standstill, for sure delaying or even cancelling all in-bound flights. If that was the case, Susan hoped the storm blew in after Don's flight landed safely.

Arriving at the building that housed both the offices of hers and Don's private practices, Susan thought back to the turn-of-the century building in SoHo that she used as an office before she had married Don. The top floor had been hers, and down the hall were the law offices of long-time friend and confidante, Nedda Harding.

They had met when Susan was a second year law student at NYU, while Nedda had been giving a lecture. Even after Susan left the Westchester District D.A.'s office after two years, they still remained close, and Susan was grateful that Nedda had understood her desire to pursue psychology. Sometimes she missed having Nedda just down the hall. Only now, Susan smiled to herself, I have someone better down the hall; I have Don.

When they had met, Don had lived at the Central Park West address, using two rooms for his own private practice and reserving the rest for himself as a living space. When they had married, they had both given up their respective apartments, but retaining the Central Park West address for their offices had seemed to be a prudent decision. Susan relished the security she felt knowing Don was nearby, only a few doors down.

Admitting that she had been deeply affected by a near-fatal attack in her own SoHo office three years ago had been difficult for Susan. For a long time afterwards she felt vulnerable and loathed the helplessness she felt being unable to gain control of her life. Having to re-live the events during the ensuing trial did not help improve her fragile state.

But all along, Don had been there with his quiet strength. No stranger to emotional turmoil himself, Don had come through four years of living in a self-imposed limbo following the death of his first wife, Kathy. Having never recovered a body after her drowning, a sense of closure had not come easily. Eventually, Don had found the courage to let go of the haunting memories of Kathy. Susan knew the role she had played in that painful act of letting go.

The murder trial of Alexander Wright a little over two years ago proved taxing on Susan. She herself had taken the stand on the side of the prosecution to relate her harrowing experience with the suave yet insane serial killer. A master of disguise, Alex Wright had taken special interest preying upon distinctly lonely women on cruises in an attempt to fulfil the objectives of his own twisted mission. Susan had become a threat to his security when she began privately investigating the disappearance of one of his victims, stock analyst Regina Clausen.

Susan thought back to when she first met Alex Wright, and frowned uncomfortably. A man of wealth and apparent privilege, Alex had been invited to an anniversary party by Susan's stepmother Binky, with the intention of introducing him to Susan's older sister, widow Dee. Instead, Alex had met and apparently been taken with Susan.

It chilled Susan to think that the killer of all those missing women from the outset of her search had been literally under her nose. He had been so convincing, and so charming and attentive. But all along it had been a deft deception. Even as he had been in the act of suffocating her that near fatal evening, Alex, disguised in a dirty wig and shabby clothes, had cooed that he might have been happy with her had she left her investigation alone. Susan doubted that outright.

If I had truly mattered to him like he claimed I did, Susan reasoned, he would have allowed me to get him the kind of help he needed.

Instead he had attacked her in her office and sealed her head-to-toe in a heavy shroud of a plastic bag, and departed so as to pursue his next intended target, Susan's lonely sister, Dee. Only Susan's own quick thinking and Don's growing concern for her safety made it possible for both Susan and Dee to avoid being Alex's final victims.

Alex Wright had received several consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole for the murders of several people, and for the attempted murder of Susan. He had barely avoided the death penalty after evidence that he was severely mentally disturbed was presented that even Susan in her expert judgment could not dispute.

After the trial ended and subsequent press coverage eased, Don had proposed marriage to Susan. Not wanting to make a rash decision based on raw emotions stemming from the trial, or the fact that Don had been the one to find her barely conscious on the floor of her office, Susan put off giving him an answer for two weeks, during which she took a brief vacation.

She found, however, that the only thing she was able to think about was how much she wanted and needed Don in her life. They had started very casually as acquaintances after that first radio show, both carrying emotional baggage from past relationships. Don had lost his wife, and Susan had lost her boyfriend Jack years earlier to Dee, and eventually to death in a skiing tragedy. She'd been initially resentful of Don's attempts to help her, and standoffish in response to his sincere compliments and attraction during those first nine awkward days. But after it all, Susan realised she finally felt ready to trust again; to love again. She joyfully returned to New York and accepted Don's proposal. The two were married a month later.

Now settling into her office, Susan opened the case file of her first patient of the day and became engrossed in her work.