The next four days felt like four years. Gertie was on pins and needles and her work at the law offices of Perry Mason was beginning to suffer. While usually cheerful and upbeat each day, she found herself lacking the energy to handle even the most mundane of tasks. Twice she had forgotten to give Della Street important messages left for Mr. Mason while they were out of the office. She had left the switchboard several times without turning on the back up voice recorder or asking another office girl to cover for her while she attended to herself in the ladies room. Furthermore, she knew that Ms. Street sensed something was wrong with her. Mr. Mason's very capable right hand gal was too professional to come right out and ask her but she had caught her staring at her multiple times only to have her look quickly away when she turned to make eye contact with her.

Yes, Gertie Lade was at the point of coming unhinged. Her mind continually wandered to Andy and the abrupt break up. She played out scenarios in her head that would win an Academy Award if ever written and placed on the big screen. Her favorite fantasy involved Jeeves rushing to her with a report that Andy had ended their romance to protect her from Russian spies who were threatening her life if Andy did not divulge some top secret information he held from his time in the military. She imagined herself rushing to him and exclaiming they would brave the danger together and he would sweep her into his arms, kiss her deeply, and say he couldn't live without her...why had he even tried?

Another scenario involved Jeeves handing her a medical report showing Andy was facing some debilitating disease and he had broken up with her to spare her the pain of his deterioration. She pictured herself driving down to San Diego in a convertible, tears streaming down her face and the wind blowing them away because she was too determined to get to him to care to wipe them away with her hands. She would rush into a hospital room and find him lying on his side, facing towards a window, watching a bird sing and flutter from the branch of a tree. She would round the bed and his gaze would fall upon her in which he would say, "Gertie...no...I've set you free much like this beautiful bird outside my window." She would toss her handbag to the ground and walk slowly towards him, never breaking contact. "What if I don't want to be set free? Did you ever ask yourself that, you fool...you handsome, wonderful, brave fool." They would embrace. Andy would bury kisses into her hair as she cried into shoulder, "I love you. Don't push me away."

"Ms. Lade? Ms. Lade? Gertie!"

Gertie snapped out of her fantasy to find Della Street eyeballing her, concern etched across her face.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Street. Did you need something?" Gertie felt her face blush under Della's scrutinizing yet confused expression.

"Yes. Mr. Mason and I are leaving for lunch now. We should be back within the hour though. We're just heading down to Clay's due the busy afternoon. If Mr. Drake stops by, can you please send him that direction?"

"Yes, Ms. Street," Gertie replied as she found herself regaining some composure.

Della smiled and walked back through her office door where Gertie could see Mr. Mason waiting with her gloves and purse.

"Problem?" Perry asked as he handed the gloves to her one by one.

"Something is not quite right with her and I'm starting to worry," Della replied.

"Hmmm ...is she ill?" Perry asked. He opened the door to his office and followed Della inside.

"No...I don't think so. My gut instinct tells me this is a matter of the heart." Della reached out and took her purse from Perry. He caught her gloved hand and planted a soft kiss on top.

"I didn't know she was seeing anyone." Perry pulled Della close to him and planted an even softer kiss on her furrowed brow.

"Well, I try not to listen to office gossip but …." Della's voice faltered as Perry kissed her lips.

"That's a good idea… but what?" He opened the back door of his office and guided Della into the corridor. It was obvious to him that "Detective Street" was too puzzled to be thrown off the trail by his amorous advances.

"I overheard she had met someone but was keeping it very hush hush. Since Gertie talks about everything all the time, the girls in the office next door were pondering she might be very serious about this particular beau."

Perry and Della rounded the corner and found themselves at the back elevator.

"Maybe I should talk to her after lunch, Perry."

Pulling her to him, Perry replied, "Darling, you are in charge of the office and staff. If you think it's affecting her work or, more importantly, hurting her, then speak to her about it."

The elevator doors opened and the couple disappeared inside oblivious to the figure of Mack Jeeves exiting before their entrance.

Perry and Della returned from lunch at Clay's restaurant to the buzzing sounds of an unmanned switchboard and a very nervous office girl, Alice, trying desperately to figure out how the contraption operated. Della rushed across the room, brushing past the girl, and quickly setting the board to send incoming calls to the office recorder.

All relaxation from their lunch evaporated as Perry Mason shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "What on earth is going on in here? Where is Ms. Lade?"

"I don't know, Mr. Mason. She was upset and just left."

"What do you mean she just left?" Della Street, normally calm and even tempered in her dealings with the staff of the Perry Mason Law Firm, questioned as she eyeballed the terrified, wide eyed office girl. "I don't understand. She was upset? You didn't think to stop her?"

"Oh gosh, Ms. Street. I just couldn't," Alice exclaimed. "She was sobbing and slamming things into her purse. She grabbed a folder this man brought to her and ran out the door."

"Wait...what man, Alice? The man she's been seeing socially? Or was he a stranger? Did he act like he was going to hurt Gertie or did he threaten her?" Della could feel her chest tightening as she tried to stave off the panic alarms going off in her head.

"No, M'am. It wasn't Andy. I've seen a picture of him. He's dreamy," Alice smiled and blushed slightly. Perry, losing his patience, sighed loudly causing her to drop her eyes towards the floor. Della narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at him. Knowing that look all too well, he stated, "Alright then, Ms. Street. I will leave you to handle this matter."

Walking into his office, he heard Della continue to patiently ask Alice questions about the mysterious man, the folder he handed Gertie, and Gertie's exact words as she sobbed and slammed things into her bag.

Looking at where they left off before lunch, Perry knew he and Della were facing a very long afternoon. This distraction was the last thing he needed if they planned on getting out the door at a decent hour. Hopefully, Della would get to the bottom of the case of his disappearing receptionist quickly.

Those hopes were dashed when Della opened the door to his office about ten minutes later.

"Chief… I think we have a problem."

The sun was setting over San Diego Bay...the warmth of the afternoon beginning to break to cooler temps from the ocean. She had driven around aimlessly for hours. This was not the convertible ride she had daydreamed about ever since hiring Mack Jeeves from the Paul Drake Detective Agency to investigate the love of her life, Andy Buffalo. Oh, the breeze from the open convertible top had indeed dried her tears but these were not happy tears that had magically dried, leaving her makeup flawlessly unmussed. No, these tears were ugly and had left her makeup smeared and powder caked into the very beginnings of fine lines near the corners of her blue eyes. She no longer looked like a joyful woman in love going to reclaim her man...a man who never really wanted to leave her...but instead like a monster who learned she was in love with a bigger monster. Looking over the Bay, then glancing in the rearview mirror, she laughed sardonically. Bette Davis in, "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane," crossed her thoughts and the comparison between herself and the actress caused her to cackle more loudly. An elderly couple, walking their Schnauzer down the boardwalk near her parked car, looked scared as they made eye contact with her then picked up pace to put as much distance between themselves and the mad cackling woman as possible.

She looked down at the pages of Jeeves report spread all over her car detailing a string of dalliances from one side of the country to the other... four marriages and various affairs laid out in front of her like some Grimm Brothers fairy tale for the lovelorn...including information on Andy's current wife, Denise.

"I'm a fool AND I'm the other woman," Gertie angrily shouted at the slowly darkening sky above her. She leaned over and picked up a newspaper clipping from the Tampa Bay Times, which the wind had blown down to the floorboard. It chronicled the suicide of a Tampa Bay local woman named Maral. The article explained how she had weighted herself down then jumped into the water from her houseboat...suicide by drowning. A local fisherman saw her tumble into the water, raced his boat to her location as quickly as possible and jumped into the water to try to save her... but he couldn't find her in the murky waters. Divers did not locate and free her until the next day. Police searched her boat and found a diary that spoke of the joy and heartbreak of a love affair but no other details...just the name, 'Andy.' It was Jeeves that solved the puzzle. Maral's Andy was also her Andy… and he was Agnes from Texas's Andy. Jeeves had a full interview in the file with this particular woman whom Andy had seduced and dumped after meeting one another via the personal ads...and then another report, a first wife, named Amalie. Andy had married her shortly after their high school graduation then sent a divorce summons one year into his stint in the Marines so that he would be free to marry a second wife, Inez..

He had stayed the longest with Inez likely due to the birth of their two daughters. However, while on Embassy duty in Europe, he met a young officer, Kathleen. When it was time to return to the States, he sent his wife and children to her parents in North Dakota with the promise he would send for them as soon as his housing was ready in San Diego. Instead of plane tickets, Inez received a divorce summons. Once free, Andy married Kathleen and they made a home in San Diego. Things went south when Andy was injured in a training exercise. In a classic case of Florence Nightingale Syndrome, Andy fell in love with his nurse, Denise. He divorced Kathleen to marry Denise.

It was all there in black and white. She had to hand it to, Mack Jeeves. He certainly was thorough. No wonder he was considered one of Paul Drake's top detectives. He gave her copies of marriage licenses, newspaper articles, divorce papers, medical records, copies of Andy's payment receipts from his ads in local dating rags across the country, copies of lease agreements from multiple apartments he'd held throughout the years, tax returns, copies of birth certificates on his two daughters and his two grandsons. "Failed to mention that, you bastard."

Andy's daughters were estranged from him. He had not seen them in almost 6 years and had not attended his daughter's wedding nor had he met either of her children. "And he talked on and on about his girls like they were young teenagers, not young adults. How did I fall for his lies? How do I work for the most talented lawyer in Los Angeles and yet I get taken in by a sexual confidence man?" She picked up a picture Jeeves had found of Andy and Denise at the last Marine Corps Ball. Angrily, she ripped it in half, tossed it on the floorboard, and threw the car into drive. Peeling out of the small parking lot, she hissed, "You're not getting off that easy."

"Yes...yes...Mike, I'm completely sure. Denise would love to have you and Carla out to the yacht this weekend. It'll be like old times. I'll tell the stories. You make the drinks. The girls will pretend they haven't heard them a million times and we'll all have a great time."

Sitting with his feet kicked up on the edge of his desk in the offices of his small company, B & S Publishing, Andy Buffalo looked the part of an upstanding businessman. His navy suit was perfectly complemented by a golden silk tie, which he had loosened after his last appointment half an hour earlier. His lapels bore a small American flag pin with a Marine Corps pin directly under it. As he continued talking to his old Corps buddy, Mike, he heard a small commotion coming from his receptionist's office. He looked up at the wall clock which read almost 6 PM...long past normal closing time for his offices, but he was waiting on a courier to deliver a manuscript that he planned to begin reading at home tonight. He was also supposed to meet with the representative of a larger publishing firm who wanted rights to one of his authors. With the money from his contracts being bought out, there was no telling where he and Denise could travel after retirement.

"Miss! Miss! You can't go in there! I will call the police!" Andy heard the exasperated voice of his secretary yelling.

"Go ahead! Call the police! I would love to swear out a warrant against your lying, cheating, good for nothing boss! Call his wife, too! I'm sure she would LOVE to meet me!" Andy felt the color drain from his face. That was a voice he had hoped to never hear again. It was the voice of a woman he really felt he loved but not enough to sacrifice everything he had worked for all these years. Better to have a home, money, and security...he could make it work with Denise. Sure she had lost interest in their sex life over the years and she was a little bit...rounder? Was that an accurate description? Yes, rounder than she had been when she first came into his life but there was alcohol to loosen her up for the bedroom and he could keep the lights out during sex if the extra layers bothered him too much. Gertie Lade was a doll but not worth his money.

Suddenly, his office door flung open and in walked the best sex he could honestly say he'd ever had in his life and he'd been with a lot of women.

"Gertie! Doll! What are you doing here?If you'd let me know you were coming to town, I could have met you somewhere."

"You lying bastard. You wouldn't have even answered the phone. Don't give me that garbage!" Gertie tossed her purse and the file from Mack Jeeves on a nearby chair. Paper spilled everywhere across the floor but she didn't care. She walked over to a bookshelf and picked up a picture of Denise. "So this is the little woman...the wife...what number is she again? Four?!" Gertie threw the picture frame across the room narrowly missing his head as he ducked out of the way.

"Mr. Buffalo! Should I call the police?" his receptionist looked mortified as Gertie rounded towards her.

"Go ahead, honey. Call the police. I already told you to do that. I want the world to know what a low life scumbag your boss really is …."

Andy interrupted, "Nooo...noooo...don't call the police. Just leave for the evening, please. I will take care of this … this … ummm… this disgruntled author myself." Turning to Gertie, he raised his eyebrow and said, "Now, I know you're disappointed that I don't want to publish your book, Gertie, but not everyone can be an author. Why...your story is just too romantic...too unrealistic… my readers would never buy it." He grabbed her arm forcefully and pushed her towards the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Gertie rubbed the area where his fingers had pressed into her skin. She knew there would be a ring of bruises there in a matter of hours.

Turning back to his receptionist, Andy soothingly said, "Please, go home. No cops. We will be fine."

"Yes, sir," the frightened receptionist stammered as she rushed out the door as if eager to get out of the line of fire should the angry peroxide blonde start throwing things again.

Andy waited until he heard the outer office door shut and lock. Angrily, he turned and made his way towards Gertie. Before she could react, he forcefully grabbed her by the arms, lifting her from the chair and threw her across the floor. She landed with a hard thud on her side feeling the wind get knocked out her. Andy pounced like a Sub-Saharan predator securing its prey before the kill. Flipping her over to her back, he straddled her, pinning her arms to the ground.

"Why did you have to come here? What did you hope to gain from it? I told you I don't want to see you anymore. Isn't that enough? It doesn't matter my real or made up reasons for leaving you. You should have accepted it and moved on, Gertie. A self respecting woman would have moved on! And this paperwork?" He reached over grabbing the folder and loose papers. "What is this? You hired a P.I. to get into my business? Check me out? Are you crazy?" He rolled off her, throwing the papers at her in the process. Getting up he dusted off his pants and walked over to a cart where he poured himself a bourbon, tossing it back in one gulp.

"Am I crazy?!" Gertie shouted as she crawled over to the chair and used it to pull herself up. "You lie to me. You make love to me. You tell me I'm your one and only and then you're gone… just like that. And you didn't even have the GUTS to do it in person!" She screamed across the room. Reaching in her bag, she pulled out a navy t-shirt with a Yankees logo on the front. "You took the cowards way out and dumped me over the phone leaving me with nothing more than this worthless Yankees shirt!"

She lunged towards him, hitting him in the face and upper body with the shirt over and over causing him to fall backwards into the drink cart. Bottles and glasses fell everywhere, spilling their contents and breaking from hitting the floor. Andy shoved her backwards and moved quickly behind the desk.

"You need to leave, NOW, " he shouted. He didn't want to hit her. He had never hit a woman before but, if she came at him again like that, he couldn't guarantee he would be able to control himself.

"No. I will not leave, Andy! Not until you tell me why. Not until you tell me why I shouldn't tell your wife what a scumbag she married!" Gertie walked towards his desk, still holding the Yankees shirt in her hands.

"You will leave Denise out of this, Gertie. I'm not kidding. You contact her and I will make sure you regret it. Go home."

"Tell me why, Andy. I'm not leaving until you do." Gertie wiped the tears beginning to brim away from her eyes. "You owe me that, at least. Tell me something honest...something that will help me understand all of this,"

"I don't have any one explanation, Gertie. When my dad died abruptly from a heart attack just after my 12th birthday, I remember the priest from our church telling me to take comfort in knowing he was now with God and it was just his time to go. And I thought to myself how stupid that sounded.I mean, what kind of God would take him away from a family that needed him? And, in the months after his death, when I listened to my mother cry herself to sleep while listening to Johnny Mathis records, I thought what a cruel, hateful God to leave my mother in pain and my sisters and I in poverty. I began questioning all the teachings of Catholicism and tossed out everything I knew or trusted and decided I would live how I wanted to live and to hell with monogamy. I would take what I wanted and do whatever I wanted because there was no heaven to aspire towards and no hell to be afraid of after death. You just go back to dust. It was liberating."

"Selfish, Andy. It was selfish...and self serving and, throwing religion aside, simply wrong." Gertie's stare bore into him. "Is that how you justify leaving all your wives? Is that how you justify abandoning your daughters? You left them near poverty when you ran off with your mistress. And lying to me and these other women in the personal ads? If you wanted sex, you could have just gone and picked a woman up in a bar or off a street corner like other men. Did you get some sort of sick kick out of the set up? I mean...give me a break! Your father's death all those years ago caused you to lose faith in Christian teachings like monogamy or the sanctity of marriage? That is BULLSHIT! You expect me to believe that lying was the only way you could get a woman in bed?"

"Of course not. I just got bored...with all of them. My first wife I was simply too young and found greener pastures while a young Marine and I divorced her when I found out. My second wife got me to the altar because she was pregnant. I didn't even want kids. My third wife was so much like me in spirit. I just couldn't stay with Inez and the kids. I would have forever wondered, 'what if.' Then, I was seriously injured in that training exercise. You've seen the scars on my legs...and, when I woke up groggy yet in so much pain, there she was like an angel. I fell in love instantly. We had a good marriage for many years but, several years back, her elderly father came to live with us. He died earlier this year. Suddenly, I was trapped. We were trapped. We couldn't travel or go out to clubs or parties. Denise was tired all the time and lost interest in many things especially sex. I was tired because suddenly my life was on hold and the man wasn't even my father. Why should I give up my life to be thrust into a role as caregiver when I didn't want that role...just like when Inez trapped me with the pregnancy. I needed adventure, freedom, romance, the thrill you get that first time you think you're falling for someone. A one night stand or call girl couldn't give me all that, Gertie."

"So, I was an escape. Maral was an escape. Agnes was an escape. Did you even know that Maral committed suicide over your relationship and break up? Do you even care?" Gertie was disgusted by the man in front of her and that disgust was painted all over her face.

"I care about you and what I told you on the phone about why I wanted to break up was partially truthful. It can't ever work out for us. I just didn't tell you why. You think I'm a coward for not telling you in person, but I couldn't. My feelings for you were ...are… so strong that I knew my facial expressions would betray the words coming out of my mouth. Still, I will not leave Denise for you. I have …." Before he could finish his sentence, Gertie doubled over laughing...it was a maddening sound that caught Andy off guard and caused his face to flush red.

"I don't want you!" Gertie used his Yankees shirt to wipe the tears from her eyes. "You won't leave Denise for me? You have got to be kidding! I wouldn't take you back now. I don't ever want to see you again after I leave here. I want to forget you ever existed, Andy Buffalo! But...Maral? I'm too good of a person to let that one go. I will be pointing authorities in your direction to see if there are any possible charges that can be filed...even if it's a civil suit by her family for wrongful death, it's better than nothing at all and, boy, do I know just the attorney to represent them."

"Like hell you will!" Andy shouted as he grabbed a letter opener from his desk and sprang around the corner after her. He'd had enough of this woman. She was not making it back to Los Angeles...ever.

The last sound Gertie Lade heard and felt, before she passed out, was gunshots reverberating off the office walls and the thud of their bodies falling to the floor.

Perry and Della made the tediously long first half hour of the trip from Los Angeles to San Diego in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts and worries...hoping that Paul Drake's connection in San Diego could get a man dispatched to intercept Gertie before she did anything rash or got herself hurt. Due to the late afternoon traffic heading into 5 PM, every mile seemed to feel like ten. After having gently interrogated poor Alice, Della had learned that Gertie had entangled herself, somehow, with a married man...and not just any married man, but a married man whom, according to Gertie's rantings, as she left the office, had been carrying on with multiple women across the country. Alice told Della that Gertie shrieked at her, "And he killed one...might as well had tied the blocks to her ankles himself. Sorry, miserable, cold hearted bastard! I can't be here right now!," Gertie then had grabbed Alice by the forearms and sobbed that she had to leave and …"Please tell Mr. Mason and Miss Street I'm sorry.

As Gertie gathered scattered papers and news clippings from her desk, Alice told Della that Gertie sobbed, "Why did I have to hire Jeeves? What do I do now? Why couldn't I just walk away! I hope you die, Andy!" Alice said Gertie then ran out the door. Alice said she tried to stop her but the phones started ringing.

Upset, Della had asked Alice, "And you didn't try to call her at home or send someone to look for her? What about calling me and Mr. Mason back from lunch?"

Alice had replied, "My goodness, Miss Street. I didn't know where you or Mr. Mason were and the switchboard was just so busy. When I thought I was about to get a break, you and Mr. Mason returned."

Exasperated, Della had placed her hands on her hips and asked, "Is there anything else?"

Alice then reached into the top of Gertie's desk drawer and replied, "Well, this fell out of the folder and onto the floor as she was packing up. I didn't see it until she had been gone for almost half an hour."

Alice handed Della a copy of a, "Lonely Hearts Club Advertisement." Two things caught Della's attention and she hurriedly rushed into the office of Perry Mason: the advertisement had appeared in a Spicy Bits magazine and the back had been stamped, "File Copy from the Paul Drake Detective Agency."

It didn't take long for Perry and Della to track down Paul, but finding Jeeves, who was undercover on another case was a completely different matter. By the time Perry and Della spoke with him and Paul had contacted an operative for help in San Diego, the miserable traffic which made up their current surroundings, was well under way..

Tired of staring out the window and allowing her worries to get the best of her, Della picked up the file sitting between she and Perry and began thumbing through the copy of Spicy Bits.

"This is awful," Della stated...breaking the silence of the car. "And it's certainly not journalism. Look at this...one of their feature stories is about possible ritualistic killings in the Chicago area and how they may be tied to similar killings in New York City and Los Angeles. No facts, mind you, just a bunch of secret sources within police departments who do not want to be named. Honestly, Perry, how do they stay in business?"

"Don't tell me you're actually reading some of those stories, Della," Perry stated, never taking his eyes off the road.

"I'm just trying to understand what could have possibly been in here that caught Gertie's attention. I know she likes the Hollywood gossip magazines and all but this is over the top...even for her. Maybe she got pulled in by this story on the ritualistic killings because of all the crazy murders and clients we get tangled up with in the office. I mean, it is quite a crazy idea that murders across the country could be connected based on what the magazine is reporting as,

" the victim's bodies having various small puncture wounds in odd areas such as the lips, eyes, wrists, and even one woman's, " Della cleared her throat, a little embarrassed, "breasts."

"Oh Della, really," Perry said, a little annoyed.

"Well, that's the lead story, Perry. You know how Gertie is …."

"Yes, yes… I know how Gertie is, Della but, even if she got pulled into buying this rag because the gruesome cover story caught her attention, I would think she'd have better common sense than to answer a personal ad." Perry glanced at Della, one eyebrow cocked, then turned his attention back to the road.

Della sighed. "Yes ...better common sense…." She placed the magazine back in the folder and shifted her body slightly away from him...her attention and gaze returned to staring out the window...mounting worry evident in her hazel eyes.

"Hey …" Perry reached over and gently took her hand. "It's gonna be fine, Della. We'll figure it out when we get there. We won't really know what Gertie was thinking anyway until we actually talk to her. No sense running in circles on a bunch of what ifs... even though you're probably right. That story is just the kinda crazy, scary thing Gertie loves to read."

She didn't answer him. Instead, she gave him a soft smile then redirected her attention to the window. Without releasing her hand, Perry hit his blinker and took the next available exit from the highway.

"Perry, what are you doing?" Della asked with concern.

"Hold on," was the handsome lawyer's only reply as he drove a little ways down the access road then, satisfied with what he finally found, pulled into an overlook with a beautiful view of the rocks and Pacific coastline below. Killing the engine, he moved a little closer to her, "Come here."

"Perry...we don't have time ...Gertie…." was all she managed to stammer out as Mason wrapped his arms around her and covered her mouth with his. Over and over, he kissed her, not allowing her time to think, much less speak. Softy, he trailed his lips down her jawline then her neck. He felt her body finally relax into him. "Miss Street… there is always time."

Della looked into his eyes and brought her hand up to stroke the side of his face. She smiled softly again but said nothing.

"Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?" He was gentle, not too prying. "I know this Gertie situation has you upset, but, Darling, it isn't your fault. I know you wish you'd spoken to her before we left but hindsight is just that. You had no way of knowing she'd come unhinged. Is something else going on?"

"I don't know. A sense of foreboding maybe...or maybe we've just been through so much recently that…" Her voice trailed off as she turned her head and looked out over the water.

"...that we need a break. Even though we both thrive on the excitement and adventure?" Perry finished her sentence then studied her expression as she continued to watch the waves roll in and out.

"Yes...exactly. Usually though, the excitement and adventure involves us saving a client not trying to save ourselves. I still have nightmares, sometimes, you know?"

"Yes, I know," he replied softly, remembering several times over the past year in which he'd awoken to her tossing and turning in bed.

" I'm back in that room with Marlow and then it mixes up and, instead of me being shot, he's beating you with a bat like what happened with Margie and her goons or I'm at your funeral instead of us being at Albert's funeral...sometimes, Diana White is there and she's mocking me that you're gone." Della turned to face him.

"It has been a hard year or so, Della, but we're fine. We survived and those are just dreams...your mind is dealing with residual stress and emotions, I'm sure. Did you ever have bad dreams before the Marlow incident?"

"Well, yes," she answered, "Of course I did, Perry. Everyone has bad dreams but those dreams were ….."

He interrupted her, " ...not any more real than these dreams are." He gently kissed her lips. "We never took a proper break from it all after the Texas trip. We just jumped back into our old routine. I'm sorry for that. Let's get this Gertie issue resolved ...you don't talk me into any more new clients…." Della let out a small laugh. "That's my girl, " he smiled, kissing her again. "And… we will plan a vacation...anything you want, Della. We will take the time to put all those horrible events behind us. Does that sound like a plan?"

She kissed his cheek then wrapped her arms around him. "Sounds like a plan," she whispered.

With one arm keeping Della close to him, Perry put the car in reverse and the couple made their back onto the highway unaware of the chaos unfolding, at that moment, in the offices of B & S Publishing.