"Mo-th-er!" Amanda complained as she scooped the last of the cookie dough onto the pan and then sucked her thumb into her mouth to clean off the dough.

"Darling, I wasn't prying. I mean, did I ask why you didn't come home last Friday night?"

Amanda slipped the cookie sheet into the oven; grateful her back was toward her mother. "No, Mother, you didn't," she replied nonchalantly, bracing herself for the onslaught.

"You're a grown woman, and the boys were with their father . . ." she let the words linger a bit before starting up again. "If you want to sow a few wild—"

"Mom! Grandma!" Phillip threw open the back door with Jamie close behind.

Amanda squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a 'thank you' to the fates that had stepped in on her behalf.

"Guess what! Guess what!" the younger boy called out.

"Boys! What did I say about taking off your wet shoes before coming into the house?" she shooed them to the laundry room and gave her mother a look that left no doubt that their conversation was over.

"Sorry, Mom!" they rushed back into the room. "Now can we tell you?" Jamie whined.

Smiling, she ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. "Yes, what's got you both so excited?"

"Tommy's mom is pregnant!" Phillip rushed.

Dotty was pulling the cookies out of the oven and nearly dropped the pan onto the floor.

"Yeah, and he's not happy about it either. Mrs. Miller –"

"It's Mrs. Wilkinson now, Dork Breath!" Phillip corrected.

"Oh yeah, I forgot she just got married again," Jamie's face flushed.

Amanda caught the knowing look her mother was giving her and inwardly cringed. "Okay, guys. That's enough drama for today. Why don't you run upstairs and clean yourselves up before dinner?"

"Yes, Ma'am," they replied in unison before running up the stairs.

Amanda moved over to the tray of cookies and placed them gently into the cookie tin.

"I wonder if Tommy was at his dad's the weekend that happened?" came her mother's voice from behind her.

Amanda sighed and snapped the lid on the tin and winced.

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9:26 a.m. Saturday, August 23, 1986

"Bye, Mrs. King! Thanks again for the delicious cookies. Sorry, Mr. Stetson wasn't here," Charlie the doorman called out to Amanda as she strode past his desk in the lobby of Lee's apartment building.

'He isn't anywhere,' she muttered to herself.

Amanda pushed on the revolving door, "You're welcome, Charlie. Remember to call me if you see him," she called out over her shoulder before making her way through the door and across the street to her parked Jeep.

"Yes, Ma'am!" He took a large bite out of the chocolate treat and mumbled, "It'll be our little secret, Mrs. King."

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

April stood outside the tall apartment building checking the slip of paper where she'd jotted down the address her cousin had given her. The raspy voice of the slender brunette as she pushed her way out of the revolving door caught April's attention.

That voice. April was certain she knew that voice. She glanced up in time to see the woman's face. She stood dumbfounded watching the woman stroll across the street. Had she really just seen a ghost? Perhaps the woman only looked and sounded like her former college roommate. Mandy West was killed by the Weathermen, or more specifically, at the hands of Tony's right-hand man, Albert Friedman. At the time, he was a Ph.D. student at Virginia Tech, and more importantly, a self-taught bomb-maker. She couldn't help thinking back to the day she'd set it all in motion . . .

"Alby? Are you here?" April tapped on the doorframe as she made her way into the small apartment. She marveled at how he could live with such clutter as she moved through his place.

"Hey, April. I'm back here," the bespectacled man called to her from his bathroom.

"There you are." She let out a squeal before immediately turning her back to him when she saw where he was. "Why didn't you tell me you were in the bathroom," she complained.

"I'm working. Geez," he cocked his head and then shook it in annoyance when she tentatively turned to face him. "What's up, Kid?"

"Tony called me from jail earlier," she bragged and stared at him expectantly.

"Oh yeah? What's a matter, his little girlfriend Mandy unavailable," he laughed knowingly.

She stuck her tongue out and continued. "He called me because his perfect little girlfriend sold him out," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Sold him out? I don't think Mandy has it in her to sell anyone out. Especially Tony," he continued to focus on making his concoction in the sink.

"Phew! That stinks, Alby! What is it," she waived her hand back and forth wildly toward the substance he was working with?

"Don't worry about it. The less you know, the better, Kid." He continued stirring the liquid and moved to open the window in the tiny room.

"Well, anyway 'Little Miss Perfect' isn't as perfect as you all thought and now Tony knows who really has his back."

Albert looked at her expectantly.

"Me," she yelled as she stomped her foot in frustration.

"Oh, right," he laughed to himself.

"Anyway, Tony finally realized that Mandy has to be the one that ratted him and the guys out."

"How did he come to realize that, pray tell," he pulled off his rubber gloves and carefully placed the white substance on the counter before guiding her out of the hallway and into the living room.

"Well, process of elimination, of course," she replied knowingly.

"Of course," he chuckled.

"You guys are all the same! You see a sweet, pretty girl and figure she could never be conniving and a troublemaker.

"Now that's not true, Kid. We all saw through you from the start!" he laughed heartily.

"Alby! That's not funny!" She yelled and threw him a scowl. "You're lucky I'm here for Tony or I would have left already," she crossed her arms across her chest defiantly.

"What does ol' Tony want now?" He leaned back against the tattered couch; his arms stretched across the length of it.

"He needs one of your special projects," she smiled knowingly.

"Exactly what does he plan to do with it," he asked hesitantly.

"Oh, the less you know, the better," she threw back at him smugly.

April mentally shook the memory from her head. "I should have known she was too perfect to die," she mumbled to herself as she pushed her way through the glass door. "Let's see what I can learn from that obnoxious fatty shoving cookies into his mouth from behind the desk," she sneered. Putting on her sweetest demeanor and unzipping her top just a hair, she sauntered over to the man and tapped her bright red nails against the granite counter-top. "Hi there . . . " she quickly glanced at his name tag and added, "Charlie."