- 42 -

"Hey."

"Hey," Mary responded as she waited for Sam to catch up with her. "Have you seen Danny?"

"Not lately. Something wrong?"

"No, he just left before I was up this morning and we've been trading messages all day. I just want to make sure that everything is okay."

"Shouldn't he be worrying about you?"

"I just meant…I don't know, I just don't want him to do anything stupid. When it comes to my father Danny has a really short fuse."

"Can you blame him?"

Mary stopped walking and looked at Sam warily, not sure how much her friend had figured out. Danny had promised Mary a long time ago that it was her story to tell and she had no doubt that was a promise he had kept, but Sam was smart and with everything she'd witnessed between Mary and her father it was probably pretty easy to come to some reasonable conclusions.

Sensing her friends uneasiness, Sam decided to just get it out in the open, "Look, Mary, you don't have to get into specifics with me, but I know your father hurt you and it's obvious that you've been letting whatever happened fester inside of you. Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened?"

"Danny knows everything."

"I'm not talking about Danny. I'm talking about a counselor or the cops or someone."

"No. I couldn't…it was…I just couldn't." The sick feeling formed again in the pit of her stomach and she was fifteen all over again.

"Well, maybe you need to think about doing that. You're not a child anymore, Mary. You need to realize that he can't hurt you like that ever again. Besides the fact that all of us have your back, you're stronger now. You can't let him get away with this forever."

"He already has," Mary said quietly, her eyes brimming with tears before she took a deep breath and continued, "I did some research after the last time he showed up. The statute of limitations has run, Sam. Even if I wanted to go to the police it wouldn't matter. I told his wife everything a couple of years ago and I tried to call the church he was with yesterday, but they wouldn't listen. This is what I was afraid of all those years ago…that no one would believe me and yesterday that all just came crashing back."

"Mary, there are still ways you can fight back."

"I don't know, Sam…"

Before Mary could respond, Sam's phone vibrated and after a quick look at the display she turned back to her friend. "Look, I've got to go. Think about what I said. There has to be a way for you to convince them you're telling the truth."

Mary watched Sam hurry across the casino floor. She was right. Mary had been unable to concentrate all day--her mind racing with thoughts of her past and how it might affect her future. She'd told Danny she wanted her father out of their lives, but the truth was she'd never truly be at peace as long as she knew he might be out there hurting someone else. Mary had been too afraid to stop him all those years ago and now there was no way for her to know how many others had suffered as a result. She'd taken small steps in the last few years, but it was time to move forward and she knew there was only one way to truly put him behind her.

Her decision made, she grabbed her purse from her office, left a message for Danny and headed out of the casino. There was no way she would let her father make her the villain in all this. She could prove his story was full of lies and maybe if she could show them that, they'd believe the rest of what she had to say.

---

It was a quarter to four by the time Danny had a moment to take a break. They'd had to call Metro seven times in the last six hours–a new casino record. It seemed like the cheaters and drunks had decided the Montecito was the place to be today and had set about to cause Danny and his team all kinds of hell. Finally alone in his office, Danny pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and stared at it. He'd been up all night thinking about the threat Frank Connell posed to his family. He'd told him before that if he ever touched Mary again he'd kill him and when Danny had left the house that morning, address in hand, he'd had every intention of making good on that threat. But a call from Mike had sent him immediately into work and he'd had little time to think all day. Now that things had calmed down, the rage consumed him again and he grabbed his jacket and headed out of his office.

"Hey, Mike, you got things under control?"

"Yeah, sure, you taking off?"

"I need to take care of something. Can I borrow your truck?"

"Uhm…"

"Come on. I'll give you the keys to my car and we can trade back tomorrow."

"Uh, okay," Mike responded hesitantly, "I guess."

"Thanks," Danny tossed his keys to Mike and grabbed his in return.

---

"Ms. Connell?"

Mary sat up straight, on the edge of her seat in the tiny church office. "It's Mrs. McCoy now," she responded.

"Mrs. McCoy, I'm Mason Greggs. I'm the deacon here at Church on the Rock. How can I help you?"

"Mr. Greggs, I spoke with Reverend Perry yesterday about my father Frank Connell."

"Yes, Frank. Wonderful man."

Goosebumps dotted Mary's flesh as a sudden chill ran down her spine. She took a deep breath before speaking again, "Mr. Greggs…"

"Look, Mrs. McCoy. I'm aware that there is some bad blood between you and your father--he's told us as much–so if you're here to make trouble for him..."

"Sir, everything he's told you is a lie," Mary cut him off, suddenly finding a renewed sense of confidence. "The only problem I had growing up was having a monster for a father."

"Mrs. McCoy…"

"No, let me finish. I've brought records," Mary opened the manila folder she'd brought with her and began handing him various sheets of paper, "…transcripts from high school as well as college. As you can see I was an A student, Salutatorian of my class…I was co-captain of the cheerleading squad, a student council officer and I volunteered with various charity organizations. I was accepted to UNLV on a full scholarship. Does this look to you like the story of a troubled teen?"

Mr. Greggs skimmed each document, taking note of the various recommendation letters from her teachers and professors. "No, it doesn't which is why I find it hard to believe that Frank Connell could have been anything other than a devoted and supporting father."

"Everything I did, I did in spite of my father." Mary's voice was hard now and she waited for Mr. Greggs to look up and meet her eyes. "He did unspeakable things to me…things no little girl should ever have to endure, especially at the hands of the one person who is supposed to protect her unconditionally. And if it wasn't for my dear friend," Mary's voice softened, "my husband now-- and his father I probably wouldn't be here today. I probably wouldn't have survived that nightmare."

"Why now? You seem to have moved on with your life," Mr. Greggs still had his doubts.

"Because today I realized that despite all of my successes I am still that scared little girl praying to God that tonight won't be one of Daddy's 'special nights'. I'm proud of who I've become, Mr. Greggs, but there's one thing I'm not proud of. This has gone on for too long. I'm sorry that I didn't go to the police all those years ago, but I was frightened and ashamed. I didn't want people to look at me differently and I've spent the last ten years trying to forget, trying to live a normal life, but the shame never goes away and now it's for something entirely different. I know that every day that goes by without me trying to stop him only makes it worse. So you can choose to believe me or not, but when it happens--and it will happen–you can't say that I didn't warn you." Mary didn't wait for a reply, she'd said all she could and now it was up to him.

As he watched her leave the room, Mr. Greggs looked at the records Mary had brought, sifting through the grades and the glowing college recommendations and scholarship notices. How could this be? How could this beautiful, intelligent young woman that had just sat before him and the one reflected in the file be the same horrible girl Frank had warned them about. But in that same vain, he was still having problems reconciling the man he'd come to consider a friend with the picture that this woman painted. He'd invited Frank into his home, they'd broken bread and worshipped together. Frank had been a mentor and tutor to his own daughter Jessica. Suddenly a horrible thought passed through his mind. Picking up his desk phone he dialed a familiar number, "Hey, sweetie. Can you come by the office on your way home? I need to ask you something."

---

Danny watched the house from his position parked down the street. He knew Frank Connell was home, he'd seen him pull up and retreat inside just a few minutes earlier. The only question now was why Danny was still sitting here when he should be inside?

A tap on the passenger side window startled him out of his thoughts and he turned to see his boss standing outside on the sidewalk. Unlocking the doors he waited for Ed to climb into the truck before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Mitch gave me the address so I came to check on Mike's truck. You don't have a very good track record with returning other people's vehicles in one piece."

Danny smiled to himself before turning serious again, "I just didn't want this guy to recognize my car and bolt. Not before I had a chance to talk to him."

"Talk? That all you had planned?"

Suddenly, Danny was offended, "This doesn't concern you, Ed. You don't know anything about this…you don't know what he did to her."

There was no question who Danny was talking about. Ed knew there was a strain in Mary's relationship with her father and through the years he'd been able to glean bits and pieces from the others. He'd also learned from Delinda that there had been some sort of confrontation the day before at the mall. "No, I don't, but I do know that no matter how much he hurt her and no matter how much you want him to pay for it you can't take matters into your own hands."

"That's rich coming from you," Danny rolled his eyes. "If it was Delinda or Jillian…"

"I'd want to kill him and I've done things that if anyone knew about I'd be behind bars, but I was lucky."

Danny didn't respond, his eyes still fixed on the house.

"I don't want you to have to watch your little girl grow up from behind a plexiglass window, Danny. I want you to be perfectly clear on what it is you plan to accomplish in there because with the anger you're feeling right now… I just want you to be absolutely sure of what you're going to do before you go in there."

Danny took a deep breath. This was what had been bothering him all day. The consequences of his actions. He wanted to protect his family, but if he did this it may be the last thing he ever got to do for them. Was killing Frank Connell really worth a lifetime without them? Finally, he turned to Ed "I know if I start I won't be able to stop, Ed."

The older man shook his head in understanding and then smiled, "That's why I'm here. We're going to let Mr. Connell know that he is no longer welcome in Las Vegas. And if we happen to accidentally break his face a little bit in the process…"

Danny smiled again before he looked back down the street, disappointment crossing his features, "Well, whatever we do it'll have to be another day–looks like he's got company."

---

Mary pulled into the driveway, immediately noticing Mike's truck parked in the garage. She assumed that meant Danny was already home and she wondered what had happened to his car. She could hear the lawnmower going in the backyard and headed through the side gate in search of her husband.

"Hey," she yelled over the noise to get his attention.

Danny killed the engine as Mary walked over to give him a slight peck on the lips.

"I'm all sweaty," he protested.

"I don't mind," she said, leaning up to give him another kiss. "You almost finished?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to put on my swimsuit. You wanna join me in the pool? I have a lot to tell you." The weight that she'd been carrying around for all these years was finally lifted and she couldn't wait to tell Danny about her breakthrough or about her visit with Mason Greggs.

"Yeah, there's something I want to talk to you about too," Danny said as he watched her walk inside.

Mary had barely made it through the living room when she heard the doorbell ring and as she pulled open the front door she was shocked to see two uniformed police officers on their front porch.

"Mary Connell?"

"McCoy," she responded absently, her gaze questioning.

Danny was immediately behind her, having seen the squad car over the fence. "What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same question, Danny."

It was then both of them finally noticed the third person approaching from the driveway.

"Jenny?" Danny asked, still confused.

"When was the last time either of you saw Frank Connell?"

"Why?"

"Because he's dead."