Author's Note: Thanks for reading this fanfiction. The roller coaster is leaving the home platform, and the ride is starting to get a little bumpy.

Please read, enjoy, and review. Thanks!

9-8-10 Many thanks to my wonderful beta, bajan-martini!

Chapter 17 Grinding Gears

Thomas La Mance, a French writer and philosopher, is credited with saying, "Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans." This adage would have profound meaning for me in the next seventy- two hours, both figuratively and literally.

It was Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. I left the house at my normal time, around 7:00 AM, taking great care not to disturb the elaborate garland draping and wreath of herbs that Miss Violet had arranged around and on my front door. In addition to the virtual herb gardens attached to both of the house's entry doors, she had festooned the outside of the house, including windows, deck railing, deck steps, and a one foot perimeter around the deck with various types of dried herbs and flowers arrangements. The house looked like I was holding a Renaissance festival.

I didn't want to offend Miss Violet, so I didn't remove any of it. The smell and pollen did bother my sinuses, but only when I was outside. The Red Moon cycle would be over in three days, and after the cycle was over, she said I could take it all down.

I had decided against buying silver chains and nitrate spray to vampire-proof my home. I checked my rental contract and it clearly stated that Eric or his designee could legally enter the house for spot checks, repairs, and maintenance. Knowing Eric, he would probably fine me for spraying silver nitrate on the screens and doors, and for hanging silver chains everywhere. I know he would, and he would enjoy doing it, too.

My morning was uneventful. The team and I worked on processing the Moufette case. We tried unsuccessfully to contact people all morning. I guess most people were traveling on the holiday weekend. Two people I really wanted to reach were Suzette Megginson, the lab receptionist, and Crystal Ball, Nathan's human girlfriend. We needed Crystal to make a positive identification of his body.

I called Roman throughout the morning, hoping to talk about the case. I left messages, but in hindsight, I wouldn't see or hear from him until the barbeque on the next day.

The barbeque was never far from my thoughts. I had met Chief of Police of Bernard Parish - and first cousin of Roman - Mr. Anthony Jeffrey (A.J.) Marquette, only briefly on two occasions. This would be the first time that we would really have a chance to interact and it would be the first time that I would meet many of my fellow sheriff brethren.

Though my day would continue along in a mundane fashion, the Moufette family would experience a whole different reality.

From what we could piece together in our later investigations, the Moufette family's morning had started much earlier than mine. Miss Sadie, the matriarch who had been attacked by Nathan, had taken ill in the middle of the night. Apparently, Nathan had bitten her on the shoulder, though she had reported earlier that he hadn't. The site of the bite, on her shoulder, had become infected. All during Friday, she would run a fever that would slowly escalate.

My two deputies, Kevin and Kyle, had gone to the Moufettes' farm on this Friday morning to finish interviewing all witnesses of Nathan's attack. They weren't able to finish all the interviews, namely Miss Sadie's, so they made arrangements to come back again when she was feeling better. They weren't told that Miss Sadie had been bitten; only that she wasn't feeling well.

The remainder of Friday's work dragged on. I called Liam and we finalized our plans. We would meet at the station and then drive to the barbeque in my car. I stayed at the station late, finishing up paperwork and then stopped at the diner near my home for dinner. It was the same diner where Eric and I had met for coffee – that meeting had only been several months ago, but it felt like years.

I arrived home around 8:00 PM, Friday evening. When I got to the front door, I noticed that something looked amiss. Some of the garland around the door frame was missing and the wreath had been placed in a deck chair. There were papers stuffed into the crack of the door, which stated that Woody & Sons Home Repair and Services Company had been in the house on orders of the rental company and if I had questions, I was to call the rental company. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up.

I went into my house and didn't notice at first what had been done. When I did, it took my breath away. They had replaced my dead, piece-of-junk dishwasher with a bright, shiny, stainless steel Jenn Air dishwasher. I didn't even know Jenn Air made dishwashers. Jenn Air makes high-end appliances, read to mean – expensive and well-made appliances.

As I walked further into my kitchen nook, I noticed that there were more surprises. I now had a new stove range with a microwave and convection combination hood oven. Also, there was a new refrigerator. All appliances were Jenn Air, all were stainless steel, all were bright and shiny, and all were very, very expensive.

There's something that I have rarely shared with another living being. I try to keep it hidden because I consider it extremely personal and private. There is a part of me, deep down inside, that is – extremely shallow.

State-of-the-art kitchen appliances to cook on – oh baby. I could never afford these particular appliances on my salary. Good thing my landlord could. They were so pretty, shiny, and new! Me likey pretty things, - from expensive jewelry, nice cars, and fabulous vacations to gorgeous men who give foot massages. Of course, let's not forget chocolate. Though I have never met a piece of chocolate that I didn't liked, my preference is Belgium chocolates.

I guess all that I've just stated is pretty shallow and superficial – but…so? Why must we hate beautiful things, why? Trust me, after being in the desert, peeing in sand, and eating pre-made, lousy food out of plastic sacks (I'm talking about military MREs – 'meal, ready to eat' – many times our meals were sealed sacks, which we mostly ate from directly), you too would start to crave and appreciate the finer things in life. Doesn't mean I can afford them, but I do appreciate them.

I spent the good part of an hour discovering my new appliances. I checked the bathroom sink, and sure enough, it was no longer running slow, they had cleaned it out.

Seriously speaking, this definitely didn't make up for all the shit Eric had pulled. But, my mother told me to always be polite and say 'thank you.'

I didn't want to seem over-encouraging or mushy, and I didn't want him to think that all was forgiven.

So, I texted Eric and thanked him in my own special way. My text said, 'Thx. Keep up the good work.'

It was now Saturday afternoon, the day of the big barbeque. I looked in the mirror, scrutinizing the results of three hours of grueling prepping and preening.

November in Louisiana was still warm, at least by my standards, so I decided to wear a light weight black pants ensemble – black is always safe and hides a multitude of sins. The jacket was collarless, had a slight ruffled hem, and tied on the side. The pants had a flair cut to them, so the material blew with the wind – great visual effect. But the best part was the blouse. It was a white, halter, and showed some cleavage, but it didn't overly advertise my chest. The blouse reminded you of a tuxedo shirt, with piping down the front and a cumber bun-type of belt that tied in the front. I hoped that when I took off the jacket, it would bring a gleam to a certain doctor's eye.

I wore touches of makeup, just touches, with emphasis on the eyes and lips. Not bad. I would say I looked sleek, a tad sophisticated, with a touch of sexiness thrown in.

I got to the station a little earlier then when I had to meet Liam. I had some things that I wanted to finish up.

My appearance caused dramatic and comical reactions from the station staff - lots of bulging eyes, dropped jaws, 'wows,' and 'is that you, Sheriff'. Overall, the reactions were confidence boosters, but were so exaggerated that I had to wonder how bad I looked from day-to-day.

Liam called; he was running late due to an emergency and suggested that we meet at the barbeque. It wasn't exactly how I wanted to arrive –alone – but he didn't know when he would break away. I took my time leaving, and arrived about an hour after the barbeque started.

I could tell I was getting close to A.J.'s house by all the cars parked along the road near his house. It looked like he was holding a rock concert instead of just a casual barbeque. There were cars and trucks everywhere. He must have invited at least a hundred people and probably more, a lot more.

I parked and walked into the house, looking for Roman. I was truly amazed. A.J. must have some money. The house was large, about four to six times larger than my little cottage. It was decorated in 'tasteful bachelor' style - lots of leather, animal pictures and figurines, and lots of high tech toys.

I could hear a live band playing in the back yard; it had a Cajun sound to it, which I loved. Everyone around was having fun and was very friendly. I walked out the back French doors and stood for a few minutes on a rather grand-style, brick patio, admiring the landscaping and view. The back yard sloped down from the patio, so I had a full, clear view of all the guests and the party layout.

On the left side of the yard, was a huge roasting pit big enough to hold three cows. Currently, it was roasting what looked like a couple of pigs, lots of chickens, and a whole cow.

Tables laden with crawfish, salads, desserts, and a myriad of other kinds of food stood to the right of the yard; clusters of eating tables and chairs were scattered throughout the grounds. It wasn't a family-style potluck affair; it was rather elaborate and was catered by professionals.

I heard a roar of laughter from a large group of people standing down near the pond. I saw a tall, tanned, lean-built male wearing expensive sun glasses, standing in the center of the crowd. It was the big cheese himself, Police Chief Anthony Jeffrey Marquette, also known as A.J. It was clear to see that the crowd that surrounded him were devoted sycophants.

I caught a glimpse of Roman standing in the crowd. He was chugging a beer with one arm and the other arm was wrapped around a beautiful woman. Roman always dated beautiful women, but this one was exceptional.

A.J. called out to everyone, saying he had an announcement to make. He motioned Roman and Roman's date over to him. He stood between them, with an arm around each one, while beaming a huge smile.

"Folks, this is a day that will go into the history books. This here pretty lady has snagged, roped, and tied my little 'cuz.'" A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd. A.J.'s smile was brighter and bigger than Roman's smile; Roman seemed a little uneasy and nervous.

"These two love birds have decided to hitch-up. They are getting married!" A big whooping roar burst out of the crowd, while my heart stopped.

What did he just say?

As if in response to my thoughts, A.J. continued, "Yep, they are getting married…'cos…well, it's no secret…young lovers do what young lovers do. So, they better hurry up before a little fella or girlie makes their appearance!" The crowd's reaction was divided; women gasped and giggled, men hooted and made sleazy comments.

What the…no, no, no! He would have told me, he would have…

I watched while Roman got banged about by the men, who were congratulating him. His date – I mean his fiancé – stood by, looking like the cat that ate the mouse. She had accomplished quite a feat – or actually, two – and her face showed her victory.

Things had cooled way down between Roman and me. We were back to our buddy-mode and it worked well with our positions. But, we talked almost every day…and he never said anything. Ever - never.

Roman spoke, thanking everyone for their well wishes. "Twyla and I are really glad to be here tonight with our friends and family to celebrate this – I mean these - good times with y'all. So, well…let's celebrate."

'Twyla?' – Who the hell names their kid 'Twyla?' My stomach started to cramp and my throat felt like an invisible fist was squeezing and twisting it.

I turned around and went in search of a beer or something stronger. There were several bars set up for the party, two outside and one inside. I went to the inside bar and ordered a double scotch on the rocks. I downed it in less than a minute and my eyes, nose, and throat were burning. I ordered another one and walked to the front door and found a little tree grove to hide behind.

Wow…damn…

Secretly, I know I had always harbored some true feelings for Roman, beyond lust and physical attraction. But, I always pushed it far away from the light of reality. I told myself that it was never the right time or place. I guess I knew that we would ultimately destroy the special thing that we did have, and I didn't want to lose that. After awhile, I joked to myself and called Roman my 'Plan B.' I would be with him if I couldn't find someone else. Ha! Actually, it was a lame way of holding onto a dream that I knew would never - should never - happen. Roman was my friend, my soul mate, my brother, my…whatever he is now.

I'm happy for you….you shit-head! I am…what hurts…what hurts is that you never told me and I found out this way…

I could feel tears stinging in my eyes. I blinked them back and wiped away a few that fell.

Get it together, Jo. Soldier, shut it down and stow it – there is no crying in the Marine Corp!...Don't cry here and now…Now cool down. Get it cool and keep it icy…that's it…no pain, no feeling…just clear and cool.

Once I got myself together, I finished my drink and went around to the back of the house. I saddled up at one the bars, and got another drink. Luckily, I could hold my liquor, but I would have to now slow down and eat something soon. The booze was kicking in and doing its job, and I was starting to feel a little better.

I walked around a little, weaving in and around groups of people and then finally settled on watching a knife throwing contest going on between a pack of the teenage boys. I guess I was still hiding out. I really wished Liam was with me or would show up soon.

I heard someone calling my name, I looked around and saw Roman calling me and waving me over. I pretended like I didn't understand him and did a 'cheers' thing with my glass and then ignored him and went back to watching the contest, feigning great interest.

I tried very hard to focus on the contest and told myself to take 'a wee sip of Scotch' whenever
the image of Roman and his fiancé entered my mind. Oh look, I'm talking Scottish, I just said 'wee.' I laughed to myself.

My mood was picking up. I think I'm a little tipsy – shit. BUT - I'm not drunk. Not yet. Hell, no! It takes a whole Hell of a lot to make me drunk. I got these long legs – and they hold a lot of liquor! Ha! Ha!

The next thing I know, I felt someone grab my shoulder. I looked around and up - into Roman's face. I gave him a big smile and had to concentrate so that I didn't slur when I said, "Hey there, buddy. This is great! I had no idea that it was going to be such a big party."

He narrowed his eyes, and glanced at the drink in my hand. "How many of those have you had?"

"Not enough, but I'm pacing myself, though. Hard week."

He had a concerned look on his face. I heard a woman's voice, "Roman! Where did you go to?" Twyla, the beautiful fiancé joined us and slipped her arm around his waist. I amazed myself on how I managed to fake sincerity and be polite during my introduction to her. I congratulated them both on the pending nuptials and the baby. Twyla was snidely thrilled when she realized that I had heard the big announcement; Roman just responded with a nod of his head and a grunt sound.

It turns out, Twyla, who was everything I'm not - petit, drop-dead beautiful, with beautiful, olive toned and tanned skin, and of Creole descent like Roman – was a teacher. She and Roman met when he was at her school, while holding patrol during a football game. I hated to admit it, but they made a stunning couple.

We chatted, we laughed, and we faked being interested in getting to know each other. We didn't like each other and we both knew it. I took some comfort in the fact that she seemed a touch jealous. She and I did most of the talking, Roman just stood there like a dumb man, not really contributing and acting distracted by everything going on everywhere.

When our conversation started to get a little forced, we were saved by the presence of A.J. As I have mentioned before, I had met A.J. while attending previous meetings, but had only talked to him for a few minutes at a time. At all times, I had walked away with a good impression of him, though he was a bit intimidating.

A.J. was genuinely charming, warm, and friendly - a true good ol' boy. He could charm the skin right off of a snake. But there was another side to him and it showed in his smile – sly and cunning elements flashed like a warning light. Within milliseconds of meeting A.J., you knew instinctually that you better treat him with respect.

Overall, he was not bad looking, but it was his confidence and personality that made him very appealing. As I mentioned before, he was tall - maybe an inch taller than Roman. He didn't look like he was of mixed race like Roman, he looked Caucasian, and he had prematurely graying brown hair and grey eyes.

When he came over, he put an arm around me and jokingly scolded Roman, "Hey boy, where do you get off hogging two of the most beautiful women at this party? You only get one, and she's got you roped and tied, so I'm taking this one." He turned and walked away, taking me with him, and actually, I was grateful to go.

"Cher, let's get you a new drink and some food." He walked me over to the bar, and laughed out loud when he heard that I was drinking scotch. "A woman after my own heart!"

While working around the food tables, I had to ask, "Where is Mrs. A.J., by the way?"

"Oh, cher. There ain't no Mrs. I guess I should say I'm married to the law. There's a little A.J., I do claim him, but he and his Mama live in Texas. I see him often as I can; holidays and such." He laughed and I joined in to be polite.

It was his time to pry, "I was told you were bringing some foreign doctor here today. Is he around here?" I responded, "No, he's running late. An emergency came up."

A.J. pursed out his lips, "Well, that's too bad. His loss, my gain. Finders-keepers, right?" He winked at me and I laughed at his freshness. He was kind of cute, not really my type, but I could see why the ladies liked him.

After we ate, and I sobered up a bit, he walked me around and introduced me to people. I recognized some faces of my fellow sheriffs, but after awhile, everyone else became just one big blur. I had now unofficially become A.J.'s arm candy, which actually wasn't a bad thing. He had a wicked sense of humor and he was very entertaining.

A.J. and I started to dance to the band, when a man named Eli came running up and announced to A.J. that they were going to set up for the shooting competition. A.J. gave me a little squeeze, and whispered in my ear, "This is right up your alley, ain't it? A little birdie told me that you are a ringer, huh? A sharpshooter, am I right?" I just smiled at him.

He winked at me and whispered, "Girl, let's have some fun. I'll do the betting, you do the shooting, and we'll split the winnings afterwards. Whaddaya say?" Before I could answer, he took a few steps away and hollered over to a man who was arranging hay bundles to mark off the shooting range. "Hey, Charlie! I got someone who is going to kick your boy's ass from here to Tennessee!"

Pudgy, over-heated Charlie took the bait, "Bring him on! I could use a new scope on my deer rifle."

Oh, shit. He's serious…he's REALLY serious…okay…okay, if I'm shooting, I'm using my own rifle.

I told A.J. that if I was going to be in a shooting competition, that I wanted to use my own rifle, which I had in my car. I always traveled fully prepared for any situation. It was something drilled into me by both police and military training. After he said, 'fair enough' I trundled to my car and brought back the case containing my Nighthawk .308 Tactical Rifle. It's an excellent rifle - light weight, with small recoil. I just had a new Weaver Super Slam Scope mounted on it.

By the time I got back, all the party guests were now crowding around the shooters circle. A.J. saw me coming and quieted down the crowd. I instantly felt uncomfortable, knowing that I was about to become the center of attention in front of all these strangers.

A.J. held up his arm to get everyone's attention, and then yelled, "Aw-right, people! Listen up! Wez gonna liven things up a little bit here. Wez going to have ourselves a little shooting competition. Everybody in the mood for dat?" The crowd responded loud and clear that they were indeed in the mood for it.

A.J. held his hand out to me and said tenderly, "Come here, cher." I took a deep breath and let it out while walking over to A.J.

He put his arm around me and said loudly, "Charlie, your boy is about to learn a lesson that only a woman can teach him." Coarse laughter rippled through the crowd. Several people shouted out warnings to Charlie. Then quickly, everyone quieted down – I think they realized what A.J. meant, that I was going to be one of the competitors. Faces in the crowd showed looks of dismay, disbelief and irritation.

I didn't know where Roman was and I didn't care. I was trying to clear my eyesight and brain real fast; trying to block out the slowly growing anti-Jo movement in the crowd.

There was only one other shooter besides myself, no one else. Only two shooters? What? Shit, this is a set-up, this was planned. Son-of-a-bitch!

A.J. whispered to me, "Okay, cher. Now show me why I spent a whole Hell of a lot of money to hire a stranger and bring her to my parish." He looked at me with narrowed, snake eyes, "I've got alot of money on this. Don't do me wrong, hear?" His smile was reptilian in its coldness, causing my entire nervous system to go on alert.

So, this is that side of A.J. that I knew was there but I never wanted to see or deal with…great, just great…

I smiled and nodded my head. Our eyes locked for a moment - his stare was piercing. He was making a point of letting me know, really know, that he was being very, very serious. I get it, I do, A.J. - I really do, and without a doubt.

My competitor was named Billy. He was in his mid-thirties, blond, slight of build, about my height of 5'10," and extremely arrogant. He had brought his own rifle, too.

We walked to our respective tables. I glanced over at his rifle, it was very impressive. He had a Russell Simmonds' F-TR World Champ .308. Our weapons were well matched. We both took our time preparing ourselves and our guns.

I took off my jacket and got a few cat calls and whistles. Not exactly the audience I was hoping to hear from – where are you, Liam? I heard A.J. say that I won the beauty portion of the competition, which brought a huge boom of laughter from the crowd.

A.J.'s charm had paled significantly in my eyes, but I smiled along with the joke. I'm a team player – yes sir. Whatever you say, master.

Charlie did a little introduction to the crowd. He stated that we were going to do a 'whisky shoot.' This meant that we would shoot, then drink a couple of shots of whiskey and then shoot again.

So, another little hiccup in the competition - that no one told me about. No worries, I've played this game. But God forbid that a supposedly best friend would tell me about this and –

Charlie interrupted my mental rant; he wanted to introduce his 'boy.' Billy's introduction was long and detailed. Of course, Billy was related to Charlie – a nephew and a deputy in his station. Billy was a sharpshooter expert, award winning deer hunter, winner of the county something, winner of the state something, winner, winner, winner and the list went on and on. The crowd was very impressed.

Okay, okay! Enough, already! So, he can shoot a gun really, really well!

When Charlie was finally done, which felt like an hour later, A.J. took center stage and introduced me. My introduction was very brief. A.J. stated my name, that I was one of his west side sheriffs, and his only female sheriff, that I was a former Marine, and an Iraq vet. The crowd really didn't seem to know how to react to his introduction, and barely responded. There were a few polite golf course claps, some snickering, and a lot of muttering. I saw curiosity and veiled hostility on their faces. I didn't expect anything better.

The targets were placed, which were over 500 feet away. The rules were announced; we would be standing, and we would make a first round of four shots – without liquor. Then, we would drink two shot glasses of whiskey, and then shoot another four-shot round. The winner would be determined by the number of shots closest to or in the bull's-eye.

Billy won the coin toss, which meant that he would shoot first. He took his time positioning himself. I saw him using breathing techniques to steady himself, which I also did. When he was ready, he dramatically quieted everyone down with finger whistles. Then he did a macho swagger and locked his body into a position. He took aim and fired his four shots, with a delay between the last two shots.

There was a nice round of clapping, with some hoots, and shouts sprinkled throughout. He had impressed the crowd and he was quite proud of himself.

I knew he did well, I could sense it. The target handler shouted out that he got two in the bull's-eye, another shot was one ring out from the bulls-eye, and the other shot was two rings out. That was great shooting, especially at the distance that we were firing.

The crowd gave Billy another round of applause, but this one was huge; he received slaps on the back from some men and a few kisses on the cheek from some women.

Following the rules, Bill took two shots of whiskey and then stood back to let me shoot. While I shot, the liquor would settle into his system, making his second round of shooting more difficult. I would follow the same steps after my first shooting round. Yep - guns and liquor – another method Mother Nature uses to thin out the imbeciles from the human herd.

It was my turn and I followed the same ritual as Billy. I got into position and relaxed through breathing exercises. But then I flashed back to Iraq, and heard Roman's voice coming through my ear piece. I actually found comfort in it. "Shooter…steady…wind from the north-east…wait for it…wait…fire at will."

I fired four consecutive shots without hesitation.

There was dead silence – no one even moved. I brought my rifle down, took off my eye shields, and waited for the score. The target handler kept looking at the target for what seemed like ages. Finally, he turned to us and shouted out, "Two center; one perfectly on the border of the bull's-eye and the first ring out, and one shot in the first ring out."

I could hear a few claps and a few shouts of support, but for the most part, the crowd remained silent. People looked stunned and amazed; they didn't expect me to shoot so well. A.J. grabbed me and hugged the wind out of me. "Damn girl, I knew I should have bet more!"

I wiggled free of him, letting him know through a look that I was okay and that I needed my personal space. I reached over and took my shots of whiskey.

Round two – Billy took his position, but didn't take as much time to settle in. The whiskey was potent and it was making him more relaxed and more confident. He aimed and fired off four shots with hesitation between each one.

The liquor had taken effect and Billy's hits weren't as true as the first time. Only one shot in the bull's-eye, two shots in the second ring out, and the last shot was three rings out.

The crowd cheered him on anyway, as if he was a long lost hero.

That damn whiskey is strong. Too strong. It felt a lot stronger than the stuff I had drunk earlier. Those drinks had already cleared out of my head, so I didn't have that base to unstable me. But, I knew something wasn't right, someone must have mixed something else in with the whiskey.

I took my time getting into place. Aimed, took a breath and held it. I again used memories from the past to prepare me, and then fired without any hesitations.

The target handler looked at the chart, shook his head, then grabbed it and came running over to us. "Three bull's-eyes and one on the border of bull's-eye and first ring out. Damn girl, you did better with the liquor in you! I ain't never seen anything like it!"

A.J. raised his two arms up to the heavens and let out a rebel yell. This woke up the crowd and they joined in. He then grabbed the target and held it up and walked into the cheering crowd. He was received with hugs, kisses, and hero slaps on the back. He was fully enjoying the victory – his victory. And it was his victory, because he was the boss. Oh yes, I was just a team player on his team - and this is how the game is played.

Well, boss man, I think I passed your initiation test. At least I hope so…

I shook Billy's hand, he was polite and didn't respond rudely like I had expected. Charlie walked up to me and said, "Not bad. Not bad at all. Ya know that whiskey had a little kick to it, don't ya? Something I make myself. I thought it would do ya both some good. Hell, it did ya a lot of good, didn't' it?" I smiled at him and he patted my arm and walked away.

A.J. came back and grabbed me and swung me around. He then shielded me from the fawning, fake well-wishers. I saw Roman in the crowd and he looked genuinely happy and proud. The bitch fiancé looked like she was bored and annoyed.

Things finally settled down and I took a restroom break. While doing so, Liam called. He was truly sorry, but he couldn't make it. The emergency situation, whatever it was, was still on-going and he couldn't break away. He swore that he would make it up to me.

Actually, I was okay with him not coming, because I was tired of being there and was feeling the strain of being A.J.'s Barbie doll.

Around nine, I had reached my full saturation of A.J. and his party. I made my excuse to A.J., which was legitimate – I had a long ride, blah, blah, blah - and said my goodbyes to him and others. I didn't know where Roman was; I had barely seen him after the competition, and only from afar. It was just as well. I didn't need or want Twyla shoved in my face anymore that evening.

A.J. insisted on walking me to my car. On the way, he started up a conversation that I didn't want to have. He slyly said, "Roman seems to have found himself quite a woman there in Twyla." I shook my head in agreement.

His body language and look told me that he wanted me to comment, so I did. I replied, "Yes, he always picks real beauties, and she is probably the best of the best. They make a great couple. I guess we'll all be getting wedding invitations soon."

A.J. looked at me for a long couple of seconds; I guess he was trying to determine if I was being sincere. Then, he said something that surprised me. "Cher, they aint' going to get married. I would betcha good money that it won't happen. He's got the baby coming though, so he's gotta buckle down and take care of things. Mark my words, there ain't gonna be no wedding." He gave me a wink.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.

A.J. did have more to say and continued to do so. "Jo-girl. He ain't never going to marry, he's just like me. I got a duty to the people, and that's enough commitment for me. More than enough for me. But, I guess I should never say 'never' – for either one of us." He winked at me again.

We had gotten to my car. I turned to say goodnight, and the next thing I knew, A.J. had grabbed me and was kissing me. It took me a few seconds to realize what was going on, and when I did, I pulled back from him.

What the Hell!

He whispered, "Hey, cher. You can now brag that you've kissed both cousins."

I stuttered out, "No – only…only one. Only you. I've never kissed Roman. We're friends." He looked shocked and then pleased.

"Mind if I call you sometime?" He smiled and drew closer to me; I thought he was going to kiss me again. I did not want him to do that. So, I used my best line of defense – my mouth.

"You…you won't do that. You're going to think about it and…and…and realize that it wouldn't be a good idea – too many complications." I smiled at him and then said, "But thanks, I'm flattered. Any woman would be flattered." I gave him a non-sexual, friendly, but distant smile and then quickly got into my car.

"I doubt that I will be changing my mind, cher." He winked and stepped back from the car. I started the car and pulled away. He stood there watching me drive away until I couldn't see him anymore.

WHAT THE FUCK! Damn, I did not see that coming - dammit! What is it about this damn city, state – whatever! These people are such – fuck this!...He is one scary man….PPPPLLLLLEEEEASSSSSEEE don't call me! Please don't… Nah, he won't. He'll take the hint. Please God, please – don't let him call me.

I CAN NOT BELIEVE THIS DAY! What a fucking, horrible, HORRIBLE day! First, I was kicked to the curb by my best friend, then – then, I was made to perform like a trained monkey, and finally - I was stood up by Liam…this is not fair…did I piss off someone in a prior life?

After I had been driving for about twenty minutes, my cell phone rang. It was Roman.

"Why didn't you say good-bye?" He sounded hurt and serious.

"I couldn't find you."

"Did you look?"

"I really like Twyla - "

"Jo – A.J. is a player, don't go there. AND, that doctor? What kind of asshole stands you up? I don't care if he had an emergency, you just don't do that –"

"Ro – stop. Just stop." I cut him off, because if I didn't, I was going to lay into him and tell him what an asshole HE WAS! I wanted this leg of our conversation to end. So, I changed the subject and talked about Nathan.

I filled him in on the recent events and told him that my staff and I needed more time to investigate and analyze. I asked him to hold off on contacting Homeland Security, because I didn't trust them. We should have heard something about the vampires in the barrel by now. He agreed to my requests and said he was sure that A.J. would go along with it. But, time was limited, so I had to hurry.

As we were saying goodnight, Roman asked, "Still with me, Jo?" I replied, "I've still got your back, Ro. No worries." I wanted to ask him if he still had my back – because I had my doubts. But I didn't. I told, him, "We need to talk – but not tonight, but real soon. Okay?" He agreed and then we both hung up.

I drove for awhile, trying to not think about the evening from Hell. Then my phone beeped. Eric had sent a text telling me that our meeting for tomorrow night would be at 8:00PM, and I was not to be late.

Oh, good. Just what I need, another arrogant male ego…can't wait…

Unfortunately, the Moufette family was faring far worse than I was on that same Saturday. While I was partying down with Cajun Neanderthals, the Moufettes were facing a crisis situation. Miss Sadie's temperature had risen and she was becoming delusional.

Her family debated all Saturday on taking her to the hospital, but they were worried about the price tag. They didn't have insurance and couldn't afford to pay hefty hospital bills. They decided to wait and see -maybe she would be fine after a little more time.

Around 11:00PM Saturday night, Miss Sadie's temperature had actually started to decrease. The Moufettes were very relieved and grateful that their crisis was over. However, their crisis was not over – not at all.