A/N: Thank you to all who read and reviewed. Much appreciated! This was a fun one to write. Hope you enjoy!
Chpt. 9: Deloris et al
Thirty minutes outside of Scranton, Steve stopped to fill up the car. Lori watched him through her side view mirror. He was wearing regular guy khaki pants as opposed to his trade mark cargos and a white button down shirt over a white t-shirt. The top two buttons were left tantalizingly undone and his sleeves were rolled up to expose muscular forearms. He squinted into the cold, late October wind. He looked good enough to eat leaned against their little rental car. He caught site of her watching him in the mirror and winked. Busted, she shook her head and opened the door. "I'm gonna' grab a water. You want anything?"
"Yeah, I'll take a water, thanks."
He watched her walk away into the station. She was wearing gray slacks and a fitted, pink turtle neck sweater. It hugged her in all the right places. It had taken her just under fifteen minutes to get ready to leave that morning. Needless to say, he had been impressed. He was struck by her beauty. It was timeless, unobstructed by heavy makeup or pretense. Her hair hung loose in long waves and bounced when she walked. The physical response she evoked from him was becoming a little uncomfortable standing there at the gas pump. He was willing to wait for her. He stood by that, but he hoped she wouldn't make him wait too very long. He cleared his throat and turned his face into the cold Pennsylvania wind, hoping it might cool him off. She could see him watching her through the reflection in the glass door. "Hah, you're as bad as I am," she mused. Inside the station, she pulled out her phone and made the call she had been avoiding up until last night. "Hey, Mom... I'm good. Guess what... I'm in Scranton... Yes, Pennsylvania. I'm headed to Mansfield, for work, but when I'm done there, I'm headed home... No, I'll call you when I leave Mansfield... Me too... Bye." Steve pulled the car up by the door as she was exiting the station. She slid in the passenger seat and dropped her phone back in her bag. "I was just talking to my mom."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I told her I would try to come by when we left Mansfield."
"Good. I was hoping you might change your mind."
"What do you mean?"
"I got the impression you were avoiding home."
"Not so much avoiding home as avoiding taking you home."
"You don't want me to go with you," he asked sounding genuinely hurt.
"No... I mean yes! Yes, I want you to come home with me. I just..." She huffed out a breath. "I had planned to visit with my family while I was here, but then I thought... well, you were coming with me and I... I told my mom about you... I told her how I felt about you when we worked together. I also told her that we were working together again on this case... I just... I wasn't sure how to introduce you... I didn't want things to be awkward. Then last night happened and... I want you to meet my family. I want them to meet you."
"Then it's settled. We finish in Mansfield and we head to Lock Haven." Her smile was brilliant and her green eyes sparkled with excitement. He suddenly knew that he wanted to be the one responsible for that happiness for the rest of his life. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, but much to his surprise, he wasn't afraid. He reached for her hand and pulled it over to rest on his leg.
H5O
"The Protective Services office is located in the court house on the town square. It should be right up here," she pointed. Steve pulled the car in front of a beautiful historical building built out of orange and black brick. A marker in front commemorated "the incorporation of Mansfield in 1857 as planned and established by Asa Mann in 1804." "There's a lot of history in this part of the country," Steve commented.
"The only thing I know about Mansfield is that people claim the very first night time football game was played here under electric lights on September 28, 1892," she said very matter-of-factly.
Steve looked at her like how could you possible know that. She caught the look and chuckled. "My dad's a history professor, remember? Too, my mom's birthday is September 28th so it's one of those random facts I can't forget."
He chuckled at how real she was. Her lack of pretense was one of the things he loved most about her. "Love?" he thought.
Inside the Protective Services office, Steve and Lori were directed to Mr. Charles Craig, the man in charge. Mr. Craig had been with the agency for thirty-two years. While he didn't remember Markus Williams personally, he was glad to pull the file and take a look. "Let's see," he said as he plopped down into his chair and pulled on his reading glasses. He opened the file and continued. "Markus Aaron Williams entered the system in May of '93 when his mother passed. There was no next of kin willing to take him so he was sent to foster care until the age of six when he entered the Tioga County Military Academy."
"He was sent to military school," Lori asked, shocked.
"Children are rarely adopted past the age of three, Ms. Weston, especially boys. Tioga County houses ten boroughs and twenty-nine townships. Each year, foster children ages six through nine are given a standardized test to judge their aptitude for science, math, and reading. Five children are granted scholarships to the academy based on their scores. Mr. Williams was one of those children. I assure you the Tioga County Military Academy is a fine place for a boy to grow and learn. He received a premier education at no charge to him. That along with military discipline is exactly what a boy with no family and no connections needs. He was blessed to have that opportunity. I'm sure you would agree, Commander McGarrett?"
"Yes, Sir," Steve responded. Lori shot him a murderous look. "Is there anything else in his file... Any trouble at the academy?"
"Not that I'm aware of. There's no trouble listed in his file. Perhaps you would like to talk to someone at the academy. Major General Ronald Flannigan, retired U.S. Marine Corpse is in charge over there. He's a good man."
Steve and Lori collected the address and headed back to the car. The wind was picking up and the sky had turned silver gray. Lori stopped on the steps of the courthouse and breathed in the winter wind. "It might snow."
"Really?" Steve said with more than just a hint of excitement.
"It's a little early in the year. If it does snow, it probably won't be too much." She watched him survey the thick, silver clouds with a curious and hopeful expression. "You've seen snow before, right?"
"Nope, never have."
"What! Haven't you traveled, like, all over the world?"
"Yep, but I always end up where it's hot. I'd like to see it snow," he said with a boyish grin on his beautiful face.
At the Tioga County Military Academy, Steve and Lori were introduced to Retired Major General Ronald Flannigan, a hulking figure at six feet five inches with a military high and tight haircut and shoulders broad enough to block the sun. "Commander, huh? What do you do for the Navy, son?"
"I was a SEAL, Major General, Sir."
"Was? I thought once a SEAL, always a SEAL."
"Yes sir. I'm on inactive duty at present, Sir. I head a task force for the governor in Hawaii."
"I see. And you, Ms. Weston, you've been with the bureau, how long?"
"Three years in total, Sir. I've worked for Homeland Security for most of my career."
"I see. Please have a seat," he said and motioned them to two ornate chairs made of heavy, dark wood positioned across from his desk. "What can I do for you?"
Lori was more than happy to let Steve take the reigns on this one. He was clearly comfortable with military authority whereas she felt like she had been called to the principal's office.
"We're investigating a series of murders, young women, that began in Scranton, Pennsylvania two years ago. Our suspect, Markus Aaron Williams, attended your academy on a scholarship awarded to children who are in foster care in Tioga County. He would have graduated in '07 or '08. We were hoping to speak to any teachers or counselors that might have known him, see his records if possible."
"I see," he said, thoughtfully. "What exactly are you hoping to find, Commander?"
"Just trying to get a sense of the man, Sir."
His hard stare moved slowly and intently to Lori. She met his eyes unflinchingly, hoping he didn't notice how nervous he actually made her. He was an intimidating man to say the least. He reached for his phone. "Ms. Langston, could you gather the files and records, anything we have, on a graduated cadet, name Markus Aaron Williams, please. Find out which housing unit he was assigned to and give me the name of his residential advisor... Thank you, Mam." Major General Flannigan leaned forward in his chair, fingers clasped and resting on his desk. "I'll allow you to investigate, but once you complete your enquiries, I expect the courtesy of a full debriefing."
"Yes, Sir, Major General," Steve promised. Lori simply nodded her head once in agreement.
"I believe you met Ms. Langston on your way in. She'll be happy to guide you in any way."
"Thank you, Sir." Steve extended his hand to the man across the desk. Flannigan pulled him slightly forward and held his grip. "I trust your investigation will focus solely on your suspect. We do our best here with what we are given. The reputation of this school is exemplary, with good reason. I'm sure that once you have completed your investigation, you'll agree."
"I'm sure... Sir." Steve answered, meeting his stare and his grip in kind.
"That was fun," Lori snarked while they waited for Ms. Langston to return.
"He's just letting me know that protecting his school is his first priority."
"Commander McGarrett, Ms. Weston, here are the records you requested. You can take them in the conference room across the hall. If you need anything, I'll be right here."
"Thank you." Steve followed Lori into the conference room. Military swords and ancient guns encased in shadowbox frames hung along the walls. A river stone fireplace decorated the entire far wall. The conference room table was beautiful, made of oak she thought. She bet five men couldn't lift it if they had to. The thick beams exposed overhead gave the antiquated war room legitimacy. She could almost picture George Washington meeting here with his advisors during the Revolutionary War. Steve spread the contents of the file on the table. There wasn't a whole lot of information to go through. "Graduation photo," Steve said holding up a 5X7 of a young cadet in uniform. Lori reached for the photo. "What happened to you," she wondered as she studied the face in front of her. Although he wasn't smiling, as was typical for a military photo, he had pleasant features. His skin was dark with an olive tint and soft, not at all rugged like Steve's. She focused on his eyes, but they were shadowed by his uniform cap. She laid the photo to the side and continued to peruse the papers on the table. His grades were excellent earning him multiple academic accommodations. There were copies of letters of recommendation for admissions and scholarships to colleges both in state and out of state. Lori noted the names under the signatures of each one. The letters described Williams as disciplined, intelligent and hardworking. By all accounts, he was a normal well-adjusted young man.
"Steve, look at this," Lori said grabbing his attention. He moved closer and looked over her shoulder. "They must keep bank accounts here on campus. This is his transaction history. He still has $5,000.00 in his account."
"It looks like he deposited $5,000 every June from the time he enrolled here until he graduated," Steve said flipping through the papers.
"Williams was born in June. I saw it on his birth certificate. Someone sent him money for his birthday every year. He graduated and left before he received the last amount."
Steve kissed her on the forehead and went to get Ms. Langston. Lori continued her search. A few minutes later, Steve poked his head in the door. "We're going to the campus depository."
Ms. Langston turned them over to Morris Atherton, CPA. He had been in charge of the campus depository for nearly thirty years. He was a rotund gentleman, quite obviously not of a military background. He wore black pants and a maroon suite coat. Eager to help, he seemed very pleased to be in the presence of Ms. Weston. "Yes, I remember Mr. Williams. He received $5,000.00 in cash via certified mail every June. The campus clears in the summer except for a select few year-'round students. Very few depositors during the summer months."
"You mean the scholarship kids, sent here by the state," Lori confirmed.
"Among others, yes."
"Did you know him well?" she asked.
"No, I can't say that I knew him well. I'm sorry."
"There's still $5,000.00 in his account. It must have been delivered post graduation. You wouldn't happen to still have that certified letter would you?"
"You know, I just might, Ms. Weston. Let me check."
Lori's cell phone rang. "Hello?.. Yes, hello... You did?... That would be great, thank you. I'll pick it up tomorrow."
"Who was that," Steve asked.
"That," she said with emphasis, "was Professor Morgan. His secretary found the ID badge. We have a current picture."
"Here it is," sang Mr. Atherton waving a brown envelope in his plump little hand. I had it stapled to the account signature card. I signed for it on June 17th because Cadet Williams had already left. There was no forwarding address, so I'm afraid the money is just setting here."
"May I see the envelope," Lori asked sweetly.
"Of course," he said and happily handed it to her.
She held the oversized envelope between her thumb and forefinger touching as little of it as she could. "It's postmarked Honolulu. There's a birthday card in here," she said and used a pencil from Mr. Atherton's desk to slide the card out. There was no signature, just "Happy Birthday and good luck at University". "May we keep this?"
"I don't see why not."
"Thank you Mr. Atherton. We appreciate your help."
"My pleasure, Ms. Weston. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"There is one thing. If Mr. Williams was going to confide in anyone, like say a teacher or a counselor, who would it be?"
"Probably his resident advisor. That information should be in his file."
Lori nodded. "Thank you again."
"You're welcome, dear."
Williams's resident advisor and letter of rec. instructors were a bust. No one remembered anything in particular about Markus other than he was intelligent and disciplined. He had friends, they were sure of it, but no close friends that anyone could recall.
Lori and Steve again met with Major General Flannigan to share their findings. Satisfied that the academy's reputation was in no imminent danger, Flannigan wished them well and sent them on their way.
Steve could see that Lori was sorting through the details and possibilities of their findings at the academy. She held the graduation 5X7 out in front of her and chewed on the inside of her lip. "What are you thinking?"
Her eyes floated absent mindedly to his. "Hum?" she mumbled.
"I said, 'What are you thinking'?"
"I'm thinking Amari sent the money. He's the Honolulu connection. I just don't know why."
"Let's see if the grandmother can tell us why."
Lori nodded and Steve punched the rental car in gear. It had taken them twenty minutes to reach the academy in Blossburg. It took them less than ten to make it back to Mansfield. It seemed even the curvy roads of Pennsylvania were not immune to Steve's speed. Lori hadn't noticed, however, so lost in thought and worry. When this was done, there would be consequences for both her and her friend, Amari. "What was the number?" she heard Steve ask, but it took her a second to process.
"What?"
"House number? We're on Lee Street."
"Oh," she answered and grabbed her notepad. "It's 122"
The houses on Lee Street had seen better days. Most of them were in a general state of disarray, needing paint, gutter repair and basic upkeep. The house at 122 Lee Street was no exception. The wooden steps leading to the front porch had long ago fallen in. There was, instead, a make shift ramp fashioned out of rotting plywood connecting the porch to the ground. Steve hopped up onto the porch via one jump and turned to help Lori. She opted for the still in tact step supports, placing a toe on one and grabbing Steve's outstretched arm. In the end, it required very little effort on her part as Steve practically lifted her to him. He paused to enjoy the feel of her pressed against him before letting her go with a wink. Lori knocked on the door, listening closely for any stirrings behind the closed door. Moments later, Deloris Williams opened the door wearing a pink velour sweatsuit and holding a thin cigarette between her lips. She sized up Lori, head to toe, and turned her attention to Steve without so much as a word.
"Deloris Williams?" he asked.
Her scowl was quickly replaced by a hungry smile. "That's right," she said shifting her weight to one hip and securing her cigarette safely between two fingers. She raked her eyes over Steve's physique, and licked her lips approvingly. He extended his hand and introduced himself. "I'm Commander Steve McGarrett. This is my partner Lori Weston." Deloris placed her fingertips in his hand and descended the short step as if he were helping her out of her royal carriage. He scuttled back to give her space which she quickly negated. Lori watched Deloris as she sidled up next to Steve and stood before him rocking back and forth on her toes as if they were dancing. She could smell the liquor rolling off of her breath.
"What can I do for you, Commander," she purred.
"We would like to ask you a few questions about your daughter and your grandson, if you don't mind."
She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips, mulling over his request. "I'll tell you what," she whispered and patted his chest lightly with one hand. Steve ventured a glance at Lori who stood behind Deloris with a bemused expression on her face.
"I'll tell you everything you want to know," Deloris continued, "for a small fee."
"A small fee?" Steve asked.
Lori's eyebrow shot up. "This ought to be good," she thought.
Deloris floated even closer to Steve, so close that she was now leaning into him, both hands flat on his chest. "Why don't you send the little princess over there to the corner store. Have her pick me up a case of something cold and delicious, the good stuff, you know. And maybe a carton or two of Virginia Slims. Then you and I can go on in and have a talk, just the two of us, and I'll answer any - question - you - want - to - ask." She emphasized her willingness to cooperate by walking her fingers up his chest and tapping him teasingly on the tip of his chin.
"Ms. Williams..."
"Deloris, honey. Call me Deloris. Don't look so worried, Commander. I don't bite," she said through a giggle. "Besides," she continued, a bit more soberly, "my offer is nonnegotiable."
Steve looked at Lori as if to say, "What choice do I have?"
Lori rolled her eyes. "Of for Pete's sake. Give me the keys," she said with an outstretched hand. "Beer and cigarettes, Ms. Williams? Is there anything else?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it, princess. Why don't you bring me a couple of Kitkat bars, too. I just love those things."
Lori drew in a deep breath and smiled as sweetly as she could. "Kitkat bars... Yes, Mam."
Steve handed her the keys and whispered, "Be careful. Watch your back."
"Oh I think you better heed your own advice there, lover boy."
Steve followed Deloris inside. As bad as the outside of the house appeared, the inside was worse. It smelled like cat urine and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in years. Old White Castle bags and empty beer cans littered the floor and the coffee table. Steve sat on the edge of a fold-out chair across from Deloris who leaned back on the couch.
"Deloris, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter, Darlene, if I could."
"Not much to tell. She's been dead for twenty years or more."
"I know. I'm sorry for your loss."
"No loss, really. She was crazy, just like her father. They're both better off."
"Deloris, your daughter committed suicide, is that right?"
"Yeah, that's right. She took all her pills at once. Found her dead in the bathroom the next morning."
"Was there a particular event or incident that gave her reason to do such a thing?"
"You want to know why she killed herself? It was that demon spawn of hers. That girl lost her mind the minute that baby was born."
"What do you mean?"
"She started hearing voices, same as my husband. His started when he got back from Vietnam. I was sixteen when Darlene was born. Dewey was home three weeks before he lost it completely. Four months later he was dead and I was raising Darlene by myself."
"I'm sure that wasn't easy."
"No, it wasn't, but Darlene was a good girl. She worked hard, made good grades, and stayed out of trouble. She was pretty, too."
"What happened?"
"She moved to Allentown with two of her girlfriends, found a job at a coffee shop downtown." Deloris took a long, steadying drag from her cigarette. "She started dating some man that worked across the street; came in the coffee shop every morning. She got pregnant; told him as much and he left her. Come to find out he was married. He sent her money to buy things for the little bastard after he was born, but Darlene just wanted him. Sent the kid money every birthday, too. That always sent Darlene into a tizzy"
"Did you ever meet him?"
"Hell, no. He was way too good to come around here. You want know something funny? Bastard grew up two boroughs over, in Wellsboro. He got transferred right before the boy was born." Deloris chuckled, but there was no humor behind the laugh. "Darlene always held out hope that he'd come back and marry her, make them a family. Like I said, she was crazy."
"Did Darlene tell you his name?"
"Nope. All she ever said was he had his daddy's eyes. They were yellow. Looked like demon eyes. Damnedest thing you ever saw. Yellow with swirls of blue that sort of changed color depending on his mood. Darlene loved his eyes. I thought it was creepy. She dumped him here when she set off on a tare. After she died, they asked me if I wanted to raise him. I couldn't, you know. I'd already raised my girl... watched her and her daddy die, too... I just couldn't do it again. You understand, right?"
"Deloris, did Darlene ever tell you anything about the man in Allentown? Where he was transferred to? What kind of work he did? Anything at all."
"Like I said, the only thing I know is he was from Wellsboro, and he worked for Uncle Sam. He was an agent of some kind. Darlene always had a thing for secret agents... loved those damn James Bond movies."
"Deloris, do you remember the names of the girls Darlene moved to Allentown with?"
She shook her head. "That was a long time ago... I don't want to answer any more questions right now. You know what they say," she sang and leaned forward to grab another cigarette. "All work and no play..." She took another long drag from a newly lit cigarette and blew out the smoke in a series of rings that floated and then dissipated into nothing. She tapped her ashes into a discarded beer can and stood slowly, exaggerating her movements for Steve's intended benefit. He looked at his watch wondering what could be keeping Lori. Deloris circled the coffee table and stopped behind Steve. She drug one long nail from one shoulder to the other across his back. "What do you drink, sailor," she asked, voice deep and husky.
"Oh, nothing for me, thanks. I'm good," he said wondering how he was gonna' get out of this one. Deloris disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to fetch another beer.
"Steve!" he heard someone call from out front.
"Thank you," he whispered lifting his eyes upward and all but ran for the door. Lori stood on the sidewalk in front of the porch, arms weighed down with Deloris's requests.
He collected Deloris's bounty and deposited the items just inside the door. Deloris followed him onto the porch. "You leaving so soon," she asked.
"Yes, Mam. We have a few more stops we need to make."
"You have a card or something I can have? Just in case I think of something else?"
"I think we have everything we need. Thank you Deloris for your time."
"Anytime, Commander." Deloris leaned on the porch column, teetering dangerously, cigarette in one hand, beer in the other and watched Steve all the way to the car.
"So, how did it go with Deloris?" Lori asked, smirking.
"Very few things in this world scare me, but Deloris is one of them."
Lori chuckled. "What did you find out?"
"Darlene heard voices, so did her father. Hers started after Markus was born."
"She was schizophrenic," Lori deduced. "It's an inherited disorder. There's a good chance Markus is schizophrenic too. It usually shows up in young adult hood, typically during a time of trauma or stress. There's usually a trigger of some sort."
"Like giving birth and being left behind by the father."
"Yeah, that would certainly do it. "
"Darlene overdosed on prescription medication."
"Let's go back to the court house. I want to look at the autopsy report. Did she say anything else?"
Steve glanced at her, unsure how to begin. "She said Darlene fell for a married man in Allentown. He was an agent," he said slowly, "from which agency, she didn't know. He grew up in Wellsboro, Pennsylvania. He sent Darlene money, but he never came around. He was transferred right before the baby was born."
Lori's face paled as everything clicked. "He's the father."
"If you mean Amari, that's what I'm thinking too," Steve agreed.
"Pull over."
"What's wrong," he asked as he slowed the car.
"Just pull over, please." Steve did as she asked and Lori threw open the door. She walked to the back of the car and leaned over. She couldn't breath. "This can't be happening," she mumbled.
Steve approached her cautiously. "Lori…"
Her head shot up. "Amari is Markus's father. What am I supposed to do with that?" She was hyperventilating and Steve wasn't sure what to do about it. "I don't know, yet, but we'll figure it out. Let's look at the autopsy report; get what you need there. Tomorrow we'll pick up the ID badge. I'll call Danny and see if they have anything new." He bent to maintain eye contact. Once again catching her eyes, he placed a gentle hand on each side of her face and stepped closer to her. "We're gonna' get this guy and we'll deal with Amari in the process. I know he's your friend and I know you trust him. I believe in that. I believe in you, just like you believed in me when things were crazy with Joe and Shelburn. We'll do this together, okay?"
He was her touch stone and she trusted him. If he believed that everything would be okay, then she did too. Her breathing began to level. She closed her eyes and took in a long breath through her nose, slowly releasing it through her mouth. Steve pulled her to him and wrapped her in a reassuring embrace. She laid her ear over his heart and let the strong, steady rhythm calm her.
H5O
The autopsy report confirmed what Lori had suspected. Darlene was indeed schizophrenic. The tox report listed several antipsychotics including Clozapine, Thorazine, Asenapine, Olanzapine and Risperidone present in her system at sufficient levels to cause death. "All of these meds are used to treat schizophrenia, just not at the same time. Thorazine would have been prescribed for acute episodes as would Asenapine, but not together. Olanzapine is a maintenance drug. It could have been used with Risperidone for generalized anxiety. In the late eighties, early nineties, Clozapine would only have been prescribed for refractory schizophrenia. It has lots of side effects, one of which is increased risk of suicide."
"So Darlene's mental problems were severe?"
"So it would seem."
Steve was relieved to hear Lori's voice steady and confident, again. The autopsy report had given her something more to think about than Amari and his very personal involvement in this case. "So what exactly is schizophrenia?" he asked intent on keeping her focused on something other than her friend.
"It's a mental disorder that makes it impossible to tell the difference between what's real and what isn't. Schizophrenics have hallucinations that are as intricate and multifaceted as real life. Did you see the movie, 'A Beautiful Mind' with Russell Crowe?"
"Yeah, I did."
"That was a true story. Russell Crowe's character, John Nash, was schizophrenic. The hallucinations, like Professor Nash's are usually accompanied by paranoia or bizarre delusions. There's no cure, but antipsychotic help."
"Do they have multiple personalities?"
"It's rare. Multiple personality disorder is not inherited. It usually results from trauma, especially sustained trauma usually of a sexual nature. Unfortunately, because schizophrenia is inherited, sometimes children of schizophrenics grow up in situations conducive to that type of abuse, but no, the two disorders are in no way related."
"I thought you were a phys ed major. How do you know all this stuff?"
"You should have read my file a little closer, Commander. I double majored in criminal psychology. There's a lot of regular psychology mixed in there, too."
They drove on in a comfortable silence. Lori played with the soft curls at his neck and watched as the familiar landscape of her childhood passed by outside of the window.
"How much further," Steve asked
"Maybe ten minutes or so."
"You gonna' call them and tell them we're almost there?"
"No," she said wistfully. "I think I'll just surprise them."
Her smile was genuine and Steve was glad to see it. He intended for her to focus on her family tonight while he focused on her. The case would still be there tomorrow and together, they would deal with all of it then.
TBC
A/N: Thank you for reading. Next chapter we're off to Lock Haven. Should be sweet and fluffy... well mostly.