Mark, Steve, and Stacy were home at the beach house. Stacy was staring again and again at the malicious article in the paper, and Mark was reading his own copy. Stacy shook her head and leaned forward in her chair, setting down the paper on the table. "It just doesn't line up." She stated wearily. "He couldn't have done it." The two men stared at her in bewilderment.

"Honey, I know you feel bad for what happened," Steve began.

"No, it really doesn't make sense." Stacy cut him off. "I don't believe he killed himself." She looked up at Mark and Steve.

"What makes you say that, Stacy?" Mark asked curiously. He was very interested in what she had to say.

"I just...he had too much responsibility on his shoulders, and his family depending heavily on him for provision." Stacy explained. "And I know he loved them. I don't think he would have left them to fend for themselves. How could he? He didn't leave them when they lost their house and all of that mess happened. No, he stayed for them and then worked hard to see that they were taken care of." Steve leaned forward with his palms on the table.

"Stacy, listen to me." He grunted firmly. She timidly obeyed. "Joe Slighter was a poor man, and he couldn't afford a house for his family."

"That wasn't his fault." Stacy said defensively.

"I know. But he couldn't handle the pressure anymore, especially after his family was disgraced."

"Dad, we don't know that." Stacy sighed.

"And you don't know that he didn't take his own life." Steve growled. "Stacy, you're letting your feelings of false guilt try to change the circumstances. Well, sorry, but in life, that doesn't happen. Stop trying to be like your Grandpa. Stop seeing things that aren't there! Stop trying to be something you're not!" Stacy's face was breaking up with emotion.

"Steve, calm down." Mark interjected, taken aback at his son's unexpected outburst.

"Stacy, you are NOT responsible for his death! You hear me? He killed himself and you're just gonna have to accept that." Steve said flatly. "I don't want you to go poking your nose around looking for information that says otherwise when there is none. Do you understand? I forbid it!" Steve glared, pointing his index finger. Stacy stared at him with a defeated countenance, her eyes growing misty. She didn't say a word. She just grimaced then rose from the table and left the room. Steve sighed heavily and shook his head.

"Steve, what was all that about?" Mark asked confused. "Don't you think you were a bit harsh with her? What brought this on?"

"I don't know, Dad." Steve groaned, rubbing his face. "I...I never intended to see my daughters carry such heavy responsibilities and burdens on their shoulders. It isn't pretty."

"But, you knew that someday it would happen." Mark corrected him.

"Yeah, I know. I guess, now that it's here, I don't know what to do with it."

"Steve, you've known full well what responsibilities and burdens would be cast on them if something happened to you, but you didn't quit your dangerous job because of it, did you?" Mark asked.

"I came really close to it, after Julie died." Steve confessed.

"Son, they're not little girls anymore." Mark said softly, rubbing Steve's back. "I know it's hard, not wanting to see them hurt. And wishing you could carry the weight for them. I completely understand what that feels like! Believe me! But you've trained and raised them all these years to be able to stand on their own two feet and persevere, whether you or I was around to help or not. Well, now you get to see the fruits of your labors."

"I just wish life wasn't so..."

"Cruel." Mark finished for him. "Don't we all! But Stacy and Katherine are adults now, both bright young women who are ready to take on bigger challenges that come their way. I think you should tell Stacy right now how proud you really are of her, instead of treating her like she's still a child. Besides, don't you remember that there's Someone bigger than either you or me, who can help them through life?" Steve cleared his throat. "You are proud of her, aren't you, Steve?"

"Of course, you know I am." Steve answered. "I'm proud of both of them, more than I can say."

"Go talk to her, son. She'll listen."

"I'm not so sure about that, Dad." Steve said skeptically.

"Well, I am. Go ahead, Steve. She'll listen to you." Mark said encouragingly.

"All right." Steve sighed after taking a deep breath. Then he bravely headed for Stacy's bedroom. Mark was so right, but there was another nagging reason that Steve had blown his top, and he had to be honest about it. He sheepishly peeked inside her doorway. Stacy was lying flat on her stomach on her bed, shaking and rubbing her head, and...crying quietly. Steve pursed his lips. He was disgusted with himself for his rash behavior. He was only trying to protect her! What was he going to say? He gulped and quietly walked to the bed. "S-Stace?" He cleared his throat.

"Hmm?" She moaned.

"Uh, can I talk to you?"

"Mmm-hmm." Stacy nodded, still covering her face. Steve sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned with his elbows on his knees. He sighed and rubbed his hands together.

"Look, honey...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped all over you like that." He said simply. Stacy only nodded in response. "Dad reminded me that you're a woman now, and not a little girl anymore. And I...I treated you like a child. I'm sorry for that too."

"Yeah." Stacy sighed.

"Hey, could you please turn around so I at least know you're listening?" Steve asked. Stacy lowered her hands from her face and lay on them with her head. But she was facing his direction now, yet she kept her eyes down. Her face was tear-stained. She sniffled as she let him talk, tracing her finger on the outline design of her blanket. "Thank you." Steve cleared his throat again, not sure where to go with this next. "You know, when your first told me that you were actually going to pursue your career as a reporter, especially for the paper, I wasn't surprised. But you know what did surprise me?"

"What?" Stacy asked quietly.

"That you wanted to be an investigative reporter." Steve said. "I mean, after all these years, and all the dangerous situations that have happened to all of us, I'd think you'd want to stay away from law enforcement-type work. You certainly surprised me, and so did Kat with her career choice."

"I chose it for a reason." Stacy said with a sniffle.

"Do you mind telling me what that was?"

"I wanted to help catch the bad guys." Stacy sighed.

"Really?" Steve raised his eyebrows.

"I wanted to publicly stand up for people who have been publicly and politically wronged. I wanted to flush out the crooked bureaucrats who too often get away with their selfish haughtiness. Dad, too many times no one stands up to them or bothers to dig into their skeletons, and growing up, I've seen how terribly it hindered you and Grandpa from solving cases and helping people. And it sometimes cost people their lives. Well, I feel that God can really use me at the paper doing that kind of work.

'And it feels so good to know that now I can help you in your work. I've been wanting to do that since I was little. Over the years, I wanted so badly to be involved and help you guys in solving cases, but you guys always said no, because we were just kids, or it was too dangerous. There was always something. Oh, they were perfectly sound reasons, Dad! But, it always made feel...you know. And now, Kat and I both feel so useful. It's a wonderful feeling.'"

Steve smiled.

"I never knew that." He stated, now feeling even more angry at himself for having lost it. And I almost killed off her desire to be useful...again. Boy, she certainly isn't a child anymore!

"Grandpa does. He has for a long time." Stacy sighed heavily and wiped her eye.

"Honey," Steve leaned over her, "I don't like seeing your job making you this unhappy." He stated.

"But it's no different from your job, or Grandpa's, or Kat's." Stacy interjected. "Sometimes it gets ugly."

"True," Steve nodded. "But I don't enjoy it. I wish there was something I could do to make it less hurtful." He touched her arm.

"I know." She sadly smiled.

"Stace, I've got to tell you something." Steve said seriously, staring at the wall.

Oh no, there's that tone again! Stacy's thoughts panicked. It always scared Stacy when Steve spoke that way, ever since he'd told her and Kat that their mommy was very sick. "What?" She asked with a little more fright in her voice than she intended to show.

"The day you officially became an investigative reporter, was one of the most terrifying days of my life." Steve explained, looking away. Stacy's eyes widened and she turned on her side, sitting up.

"You were scared? Of what?" Stacy asked incredulously. "What could possibly scare you?"

"Stace," Steve looked directly at her. "Investigating, digging into crime, exposing cons, that's a

very dangerous business. I've always wanted you girls to be safe. Now you're stepping out into the world, making your ways, and you've chosen a field that includes many risks. I can't watch you walk out the door the same way anymore."

"Dad," Stacy interjected. "It's not like your job. It's not as if I walk around and carry a badge with me...or a gun!" She slightly joked.

"It can be pretty chancy." Steve warned. "Now, everyday I always have to say a prayer for your safety as you head off to work."

"I do that for all of us, any time we go anywhere." Stacy said.

"Well, yeah." Steve agreed. "But, I know what it's like out there, and I know the kind of perilous trouble you can get into. Honey," Steve leaned closer to her, "I want you to be really careful. I know you're a big girl now, but that doesn't mean you can handle everything."

"I learned that a long time ago." Stacy chuckled.

"Stacy, sweetie, I just don't want anything to happen to you." Steve said tenderly. "I know that doesn't excuse my behavior earlier, but it's true." He gripped her arm. "I couldn't bear it if you got hurt, or...or if I lost you, any of you guys. Especially if I wasn't there to prevent it. I just want you to be safe. Do you understand?"

"Of course." Stacy replied. "I guess when I mentioned my hunch, it made you all jumpy, and all these scenarios started going around in your head."

"That's about it." Steve nodded. "But, you understand why I don't want you to be diving around headfirst into things you're not sure about?"

"Yes." Stacy sighed. "But it's part of my job now, and I'll try to be careful, Dad. I will."

"Thank you." Steve said lowly. "So...does that mean I'm forgiven?" Stacy chuckled, sitting up, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise, then returned the embrace. "Well, I certainly didn't see that coming!" He snickered and Stacy pulled away. "If that's not forgiven, I don't know what is." Stacy slightly grinned, then stared down at the blanket they were sitting on. "Hey, there's something I forgot to tell you." Steve smiled warmly.

"What's that?" Stacy asked quietly.

"I'm really proud of you, Stacy Sloan."

"You are?" Stacy smiled.

"Very proud, of you and Kat. You're bright young women now, you know what you want to do in the world, but you're also decent, and caring. I wouldn't have either of you any other way."

"Thank you, Dad." Stacy smiled wryly. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

"Well, you think you can bear to be seen with me before your grandpa thinks I've been locked out?" Steve joked.

"Maybe." Stacy teased, then rose to her feet.

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better!" Steve shook his head sarcastically, smiling and followed her.

"By the way, what is it that makes you so sure that Joe Slighter didn't kill himself?" Steve asked as they headed back to the dining room.

"You still think I'm wrong about that?" Stacy asked back.

"I didn't say that. I do not agree, but I would really like to know why you feel that way."

"I don't exactly know, Dad." Stacy shook her head. "I...I just keep getting this nagging feeling, and it won't go away. I...I feel like his death is a little too open shut, especially knowing the kind of man he was. Now, I know that you aren't into writing."

"No, I sure am not!" Steve agreed. "That's way out of my line."

"Well, it feels like when I get ideas for my stories. You know, sometimes my imagination will keep building something up. It could be a plot, certain scenes, or whatever. But it sounds to me like it would make a good story, and...and it keeps building up more and more and I think about it all the time, at least 'til I put it down together on paper.

'Well, that's what it feels like, and I've got this strong, recurring thought that we should look at Joe's life a little closer. I can't hurt anything, can it, Dad? I mean, it's not wrong to make sure you're not second-guessing yourself is it?'"

"All right. You've got me there." Steve sighed. "Stace, I'm not going to forbid you from testing the waters. But, I don't want you to go looking for things that aren't there. Okay?"

"I'm looking for what could be there, Dad but might've been overlooked. I just have a strong hunch." Stacy replied. "If I turn out to be wrong, okay. I'm wrong. But how will we know that for sure if we don't look?"

"You have been hanging around your grandpa too much." Steve muttered sarcastically.

"Thanks." Stacy smiled, cocking her head and walked away.

"Okay, so let's just say, for argument's sake, it was a suicide." Steve stated later, earning him a frown from Stacy. "If he was the kind of man you say he was, if he was going to take his life, surely he would've come up with a way for his wife and daughter to be provided for. But how? The man was poor."

"But he did have an established job." Mark interjected. "Which means surely he would've kept a..."

"Life insurance policy!" Kat finished. "Why didn't we think of that before?" Stacy's eyes lit up.

"Of course!" Stacy agreed. "If he was going to kill himself, he would've turned in the policy to someone and told them to give the money to his family."

"I can talk to his wife, and her sister, ask if he'd given it to them, or hinted around that it might've been needed." Kat suggested.

"Good idea, Kat." Mark smiled. "Let us know what you find out."

"I'll go to his place of employment and ask his boss the same thing." Steve said.

"Can I go with you, Dad?" Stacy asked eagerly. Steve seemed to be considering the option.

"I guess so," he said. "It'll either confirm or contradict one of our theories."

"Thanks." Stacy smiled.

"Well, you all go digging. Let me know how it goes." Mark chuckled at his family.

"I'm not trying to compete with you, Dad. That's not what this is about." Stacy said with puppy dog eyes as they reached Steve's car.

"Oh, well. Good to see we're working on the same side." Steve said sarcastically. "We are, aren't we?"

"Yes." Stacy shook her head. "We may have different ideas, but I'd much rather be working with you on this than against you."

"Why are you so adamant about this, Stacy?" Steve asked.

"Dad, he was my client." Stacy sighed. "Whoever did write that article isn't going to come forward, but I feel that if we leave his deed unturned, that we'll always look back on thinking that we could've done more." Steve nodded with a warm smile. "Besides, this is a chance I've been waiting for, for years."

"What?" Steve inquired.

"A chance to be like you." Stacy grinned. Steve reared his head back, half laughing and half groaning. For years, he'd been surrounded by his dad and ambitious friends who wanted to help him in solving crime. Sometimes it had been more of a hassle than help, and other times it had been a heavy burden on his heart when they'd been endangered. When Julie had made him a father, he'd hoped that his children would be the ones in his close-knit family circle to step away from the world of law enforcement and go down totally different paths. Much to his chagrin, that hadn't turned out to be the case.

"Then why didn't you become a cop like me, huh?" Steve teased.

"Dad," Stacy rolled her eyes. "I wanted to be different, and so did Kat, ways of helping you solve crimes, but in our own ways, and within our own loop holes where sometimes bureaucrats and or bosses won't let you tread."

"How does that work?"

"You know, there are some tough nuts to crack. And some of them you know what they're up to, but they won't always talk to you. That's where the power of the press comes in. You see, here's the picture, they clam up to you and we play hard ball with the option of public exposure. You'd be surprised at how many people suddenly start talking when they're afraid everyone's gonna find out their secrets!" Stacy smiled. "It sometimes opens doors just as much as the badge."

"Mmm." Steve grunted