Thunderstorms

by Romantic Nerd

Thunderstorms come sweeping though one's life from time to time. William and Julia must cope with a series of crises that threaten everything. They will need to solve multiple crimes and save their own necks under highly stressful situations. Fortunately they are incredibly strong when they work together.

11. Chapter 11

Thunderstorms – Continued

Chapter 11: Tuesday, August 12, 1913

At dawn a cold wind blew in through the window along with the warm, golden glow of low sunlight. The curtain danced and the shadows in the bedroom were long. The couple slept naked, lacking covers of any kind, spooned together. Julia stirred, and noticing the chill, rolled over on her back to give her husband a soft nudge. She said, with her voice sleepy and dry, "William, can you close the window?"

William seemed to be immediately alert, replying, "Mm-hmm," and then getting out of bed and doing what she had asked. Upon returning, he pulled up the bed-sheet and light blanket that had been flung to the floor in last night's balmy heat, nestling close to Julia as he blanketed them both. They both knew from the sunrise hues in the room that they had more time.

"Thank you William," she said as she pressed her back closer to him, softly sliding her cool skin across his.

He was in the mood for love, she for sleep. William decided they probably had time for both, and with a sigh, he stuck his pillow under his head and closed his eyes, asking for sleep to come. It did not. "Perhaps the victim isn't Felicity Dawes," he thought, "But I agree with Julia, I think it probably is." Feeling stressed, he rolled over onto his back and reached up to massage his forehead, "And why would a man running an illegal weapons business, like Connor, visit Dawes' murderer, Isabel Webster, in jail," he asked himself, feeling his facial expression take on its typical wrinkle at the corner of his mouth, "They could be related, or had a love affair?" he thought. "But Clegg said Connor was in a relationship with Jane … and where is Clegg, not mention Jane. Could Connor have killed her," an eyebrow arched up, "Maybe he killed Clegg too?" William pondered. The number of questions overpowering the possible answers, he sighed and shifted his position. He focused on remembering the other weapons in the plans he found at Flate's home – thinking of the time-delayed grenade set off by removing a pin, and then of the land-mine, the bomb being set when the button is pushed down, and then detonated once the pressure is removed. He worried that perhaps one of these weapons might be used in an attack on them next.

Next to him in their bed, Julia made a soft sound. Her body twitched slightly. She was dreaming.

In her minds-eye Julia was making love with William. They were in their bed, it was early morning. His body cloaked hers; he was deep, deep inside of her. They were hurrying because the children would be knocking on the door any minute. Julia moaned, the feelings within her having tightened beyond tolerance. "Shh," William whispered in her ear. She knew why he urged her for stealth; the children could already very well be just on the other side of their door. "Julia," she heard him whisper, his voice so close to her ear it felt like he was in her brain. "Closer," she thought as she tightened her grip around him, firmly taking hold of his back, "Closer William," she urged. He seemed to storm even harder into her forcing her to moan, long and deep, once more. Moments later she felt William's thrusting change, growing more urgent, more desperate, somehow more real. Steam burst out of his nostrils rumbling across her ear, strong, rapid. He grunted with the exertion of pumping farther and farther inside of her. Every muscle in his body flexed, he drove into her with all his might. She too chased the edge with everything she had. She was so close. "Don't stop. Please don't stop," she pleaded.

Knowing the kind of dream Julia tended to have early in the morning, William had turned to her, having already been aroused by the thought. He had slid a hand up from her hips to firmly hold her ribcage, pushing to tuck her underneath him and he had whispered in her ear, "Julia." She had responded to his voice, his touch. She had slid her arms around his waist, gripped him hard, squeezed him closer to her. He had heard her desperate need as her voice called, "Closer William," breaching the boundary of his soul. He penetrated her, evoking a long, deep moan that called every cell in his body to her. He wanted to be deeper inside. He surged with all his might, grunting uncontrollably with the effort. "Don't stop. Please don't stop," she cried, awake now, wanting him more than she ever remembered wanting him before. She dug her nails into his lower back and she pulled him down to her as if her life depended on getting him deeper into her, "Please William," she cried, as tears formed in her eyes. "There it is, right there," he thought, now at the edge, about to soar. He felt her grab a hold of him tighter, hang on to him for dear life as the precipice came and they burst into the chasm together. Luscious, delicious joy gushed through them.

"Oh my God I love you Julia," William said; impossible to say whether his voice spoke or whether it whispered. She was crying, tears flowing down the side of her face, the liquid slipping into her ears. He tried to kiss the tiny streams away. "I love you so much," he said before taking a long breath, pulling in her scent.

She squeezed him even harder and said, with her voice squeakier than she would like, "Don't let go."

His arms wrapped more firmly around her and he whispered, "I'm right here." Still on top of her, still inside of her, he gently rocked her, holding her snug, while she cried.

He took his cue from her, feeling her grip on him loosen, hearing her take a deep breath. She turned her head and found his ear with her lips, her warm breath rumbling before her kiss. He brought her with him as he rolled over onto his back. She put her head on his chest, moved by his beating heart. She swallowed to moisten her voice and said, "That was amazing. You are truly magnificent," she said, and then giving him a playful squeeze she added, "As Ruby would say." He blushed. She didn't notice it yet. She went on, "Really William, you are an excellent lover." She lifted her head, caught his crimson color.

He dropped his eyes away from her, "Really now, Julia," he almost scolded.

Taking delight in his lack of ease, she brightened even more, "Don't you like hearing me say what a magnificent lover you are?"

He tried to look at her, giving her a sideways glance. He swallowed and said, "I …" he cleared his throat, his first attempt too scratchy, and said, "I like it."

"And do you doubt that it is true – that you are magnificent at making love?" she pushed, reveling in his discomfort, for every bone in her body knew that he knew he was, but that it would be so very difficult for him to admit it and appear vain. "William! Do you or do you not know that you are excellent at making love?" she teasingly demanded. He honestly couldn't turn any more red.

Finally he got his nerve up. He turned to her, holding her eye firmly and said, "I know."

She crawled up, swinging a leg over him to straddle him as if she were riding a horse and friskily scratched his chest. She said, "Now don't you go getting cocky about it William Henry Murdoch." She bent forward, to lie on top of him.

He stroked her air, intentionally catching her ear as his fingers glided by. "All that said, whenever what just happened happens … you have a dream like that and I, um, well, we end up making love … I worry that I'm, well … that I might be taking advantage of you …" he asked.

"Oh my God William, no… And if you are, well … you completely have my permission. What a wonderful way to wake up. Absolutely delightful," she replied.

"Good," he said.

Contentedly, she released a big sigh. "Yes, I really must say, a delightful way to awaken," she murmured into his chest. She sat back up on top of him, the mischievous glint in her eye sending thrilling swirls throughout his body and she reached behind her to tuck her fingers under the edge of his buttocks and teased, "All that bicycling makes such strong thrusting muscles, hmm?" William swallowed, the heat rising once again through his neck, up into his face. Then her hands shifted to slide up his stomach, reveled in the contours of his chest, rode the curves of his muscular shoulders and arms. She continued her scrumptious taunting, "Mm-mmm, and lifting those big, hulking weights so you can hold me so very tightly, with such force …" Her mouth curled up at the edges, warning him that she was going to make one of her jokes, "So, I can't run away," she giggled. Their hearts melted as William chuckled with her, for the thought of Julia running away during their passion was truly ludicrous.

The laughter seeming to lower the pressure of his blushing, William joined in to play the game, "Julia, I am not just a physical plaything you know…" he said, trying with all his might to sound insulted, "There is quite a bit more to it than that."

Julia friskily bounced on top of him, noticing for the first time how strongly he reacted to the sight of her breasts jiggling about as she did so. "Well of course William, there are all of the skills you have, some of which I owe gratitude to your Madame friend, Miss Weston for … and all of your reading as well, particularly the Chinese methods and theories of Ishinpō. Oh how I love Ishinpō." Julia crawled seductively up his body to place her lips close enough to his ear that as she spoke he could feel her lips glance and graze across his skin and whispered, "But all of these things pale in comparison to you biggest asset… your amazing power of self-control William." She sat back up, still straddling him, to see his face. She was rewarded for her efforts.

William had blushed again. He dropped his chin, ducking from her eyes. And then he did it, sent her love for him catapulting – He looked up through his gorgeous long, black eyelashes, his warm, brown eyes sparkling, and said sheepishly, "Well, I lost that self-control just now."

The smile that grew on Julia's face was magnetic. She chuckled and nodded her head, "Yes, yes you did. And it was lovely. There is nothing in this world that thrills me more than when your need for me is so strong that you – you William Henry Murdoch, lose control and must take what you want so badly, take it right there, right then – and what you want that much is ME."

The knock at the door served to remind them they were not the only two people in the world. They were stark naked. "Wait a minute," Julia called out to the three little ones on the other side of the door. "O.K. Mommy, they heard Katie say. They each frantically searched for their pajamas, quickly remembering that it was too hot last night to put them on. That meant Eloise had left them under their pillows. Once William had his pajama bottoms on and Julia had pulled her nightgown over her head, William called out, "Come in."

The family cuddled together for a few moments on their bed. It was not that often that they saw their father bare-chested, and the children were drawn to the sight.

"I can see Daddy's muscles," Chelsea said.

William Jr. started to point particular muscles out and name them, "Bicep, tricep, deltoid … What's this one Mom?" he asked?" pointing to the large muscle closest to his father's heart.

"That's the pectoral muscle," his mother, the doctor, answered.

"Katie noticed the wound near her father's heart and asked, "What's that? … Can I touch it Daddy." William looked at Julia with concern, he didn't want to frighten her, the wound drawing attention to the fact that he could have died – could die.

Julia leaned forward, taking a caring hold of her daughter's shoulders, and said, "That's a wound sweetie. A place where your Daddy got hurt. He has lots of them. But your Daddy is very strong …" she continued as she reached around Katie to cup her husband's cheek, lovingly sliding her thumb back and forth along his chin, "He heals up well."

Katie asked, her changing of the subject away from his mortality bringing a sigh of relief from her father, at least at first, "Do you like Daddy's muscles Mommy?"

All eyes turned to Julia who responded, "Why yes, yes I do."

"Why?" Katie asked.

Julia thought for a moment, then she answered, "Well, it's hard to say why someone finds some quality or other sexually attractive in another person…"

William fidgeted, not really liking where the conversation was going. He sensed the "sex" question was going to come up. "Mm," he said, as he removed himself from underneath a child or two and got out of bed. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, ears keenly attuned to the conversation going on in the next room.

The children looked back at their mother to explain. "Your Daddy is a little uncomfortable about talking about this," she said.

"What?" Katie asked.

Julia tenderly smiled, "Sex," she answered. She took a deep breath and went back to their original question, "I think men and women are attracted to the things they don't each have in the other sex. Like, I don't have big, strong muscles, but your Daddy does."

William Jr. added, "And Dad doesn't have long, pretty hair!"

"Right," Julia agreed.

Little Chelsea had said very little, but she had been listening. She declared, "And you like Daddy's penis too!"

Julia heard William choke on his toothpaste in the bathroom. She herself felt her neck and cheeks redden. She cleared her throat and said, "Yes. Yes I do."

"And he likes your vagina, Mommy?" Katie asked.

"Yes, I believe he does."

"Why?" Katie asked again.

Julia leaned back to think about what to say. Honestly, she was relieved when William Jr. spoke up to answer her question.

"Because the man puts his penis in the woman's vagina to have sex," William Jr. said, matter-of-factly.

Katie turned to her mother with what seemed like the biggest question she had ever had in her whole life, "Is it true Mommy?" she urgently demanded to know.

William came out of the bathroom and was listening for her reply as well. Of course, she saw no recourse but to tell the child the truth about the facts. "Yes, honey, it's true," she calmly agreed.

"Why?" she asked insistently.

Julia scootched over closer to her and made an effort to explain, "Well," she started, "It is how men and women make love…"

Claire-Marie lightly knocked on the door frame at the open bedroom door. Looking at Julia she said, "Mam," then turned to look at William, "Sir." As soon as the young woman laid eyes on William she noticed his bare chest. Her eyes dropped and grew dark as she soaked in the sight of him. "I, um, I …" she was having trouble continuing her thought as she was quite distracted.

Julia rolled her eyes up to the heavens and then said, after clearing her throat in an effort to pull the woman's gaze off of her husband and to her, "We are in the middle of an important family discussion. We will be a few minutes. Would you mind waiting?"

Claire-Marie had come back to her senses and was now blushing. She said, "Yes, of course mam," and quickly darted out of the room.

Julia looked at William and said, needing to draw his attention too she noticed with a twinge of jealousy, "William … Perhaps you could go talk to Claire-Marie about our plans for later…" She had his full attention now and she could tell he understood that she was asking for him to prepare their nanny for the possible flight to a pre-planned sanctuary.

The memory sobered him. "Yes," he replied and turned to go…

"Oh, and William," Julia said, her voice a mixture of teasing and sternness, "Perhaps your talk would go better if…" she reached under his pillow to find his pajama top and then tossed it to him, "… You put this on, hmm," she finished with an eyebrow raised.

William caught it and said, "Yes … that sounds wise," with a slight wrinkle of apology at the corner of his mouth. He pulled the pajama top on over his head and went down the hall to inform Claire-Marie that they were trying to set up a place for her to go with the children to keep them safe.

As he walked out the door she said, more to herself than to anyone else, "It seems Claire-Marie finds your Daddy's muscles attractive too."

Katie relentlessly pushed to get back to their discussion, her curiosity bubbled over as she reminded her mother, "And Mommy, why do men and women make love?"

Julia shifted her position and answered, "Well, there is more than one reason why men and women make love. They may want to have a baby, and that's how the man's part of the baby, called the sperm, and the woman's part, called the egg, get together in the woman's womb," Julia touched her own abdomen, just above her pubic bone to show them where the womb was.

"Chelsea excitedly asked, "Are you and Daddy making a new baby?!"

"No, no honey, we're not. Um, I don't think I am able to make any more babies – William Jr. was the only baby your Daddy and I will have made. That's why we adopted you and your sister, we wanted more babies – we fell madly in love with you."

"Then why do you and Daddy make love?" Katie asked. Hearing the question as he returned to the room, William rolled his eyes.

Again, William Jr. jumped in, showing he had garnered much from his earlier talk with his father, "Because it feels good," he said.

Katie looked incredulous. She looked back at her mother and asked, "Does it feel good Mommy?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

Chelsea piped in, "Better than kissing?" she asked.

"Well, kissing is a part of making love, at least it usually is part of it, but um, yes, I would say making love feels even better than kissing."

William walked over to stand next to the bed and added, "When you are married and are in love with the person you are making love with." He took a deep breath and said, "Now, if we don't get a move on your Mommy and I will be late for work – Chop, chop!" He reached down to clutch William Jr. and spin him playfully around, throw him up in the air and then lightly toss him to the floor heading in the direction of the doorway. He turned and fixed his eyes on Katie next, prompting her to squeal with delight and then make an effort to escape his grasp. Her father spun and flung her around softly before sending her along as well. Next was Chelsea, she was jumping up and down on the bed, her anticipation palpable. William tenderly hurled the littlest one into a spin, then pulled her down to give her a big hug and a kiss and sent her off with a light pat on her bottom.

Julia was taken by surprise when he playfully turned to her. "Oh no. No you don't William," she ordered as she started to crawl backwards towards her side of the bed. She screamed out with delight as he jumped into the bed next to her, took her in his arms and pulled her out of the bed. Her arms wrapped around his neck, he held her with one arm under her knees and the other around her waist and he twirled them both into a dizzying spin. When he stopped and slowly let her feet find the floor, her brain swirled as her heart soared. He took her in a kiss. When the kiss broke off she said, "I love you William Murdoch, with all of my heart."

Later, heading off to work, William and Julia came outside on the porch; they greeted and thanked Constable Shaffer, cheering him up with a promise that Eloise would soon bring him some breakfast. William purveyed the environment, suddenly seeing everything as a threat. Thoughts like, "Better check for a bomb under the carriage," and "Don't forget to keep an eye out for the dirigible" plagued him.

The Inspector teased Murdoch for being late again, implying that at least part of the reason was due to "frolicking with the missus." He so enjoyed seeing the buttoned-up detective blush with discomfort. William seemed particularly sensitive to his taunts today, he thought, likely because the new, young, Detective Gulliver was listening in. The mentee followed Murdoch to his office.

"Have a seat," Murdoch said. Detective Gulliver chose to sit on the stool at the work table. Murdoch sat at his desk. "Oh good," Murdoch said as he shuffled through his messages, "The incinerated materials from Mr. Lynch's effects have already been delivered to the morgue." He explained his plan of trying to lift fingermarks from the man's buttons, assuming the killer had removed the clothing to plant the poison and then replaced the clothing. Gulliver seemed impressed. Murdoch called George in.

"Good morning sir… Detective Gulliver," George politely said, standing at the door.

"Good morning George," William replied. "Dr. Ogden expressed some concern about the possibility that Isabel Webster is not actually the woman in the Don Jail – worrying that somehow she could have escaped…" he started to explain.

"Well I'm not surprised, sir," George said, glancing over a Gulliver, knowing the man would not understand the repercussions of what he was about to say. He continued, "The experiences the two of you had at the hands of James Gillies would certainly be enough to stir up doubt."

William nodded, "Yes," he said, and then took a deep breath as he tried to push down the feelings the memories of Gillies roused, "And so, I would like you to go to the Don Jail and take and compare the fingermarks of the woman who is there to the prints we have on file for her. Do you think you remember what she looked like George?"

George stood up taller and said, "I have an excellent memory for faces sir."

"Good," Detective Murdoch replied, "Please go as soon as possible. Thanks George." With a nod the constable headed to his desk to take care of any essential tasks, collect Miss Webster's prints, and then go.

"Oh, George," the detective called him back.

He peeked his head around the corner of the door, "Yes sir?"

His superior kept his eyes down on some papers on his desk, prompting George to notice that he had never quite seen the detective's desk so cluttered before, "I may want to compare some fingermarks from materials Dr. Ogden is working on in the morgue right now to Miss Webster's. Could you make a copy of her fingermarks before you go?" he asked, lifting his head to gaze upon the camera the constable could use to complete the task.

"Very good sir," George said as he crossed the room to take the camera.

Once they were alone again, detective Gulliver started up a conversation. "I am very much looking forward to meeting this Dr. Ogden. I hear she is a woman… quite astounding," he said.

Detective Murdoch's eyes and attention were elsewhere. He studied his desk working to prioritize the next steps. Mustering as much patience as he could, he answered, without looking up, "Yes, she is quite remarkable." Wanting some time to work on the cases without the distractions of dealing with the younger man, William remembered a way to get rid of him for a while. "Detective Gulliver, You had a good idea yesterday about searching suppliers of nitrogen to discover the identities of people who were possibly making bombs. Perhaps you would like to chase down that idea yourself? Take Constable Morris with you if you'd like…"

Gulliver stood up and said, "Yes, I will. Thank you." Murdoch reminded him to take the photos of all the persons involved with the case. With that, he took his leave.

Detective Murdoch walked out into the bullpen to find Higgins. He asked him if they had had any luck in the search for the whereabouts of Felicity Dawes and Carl Rodriguez.

"We've come up empty so far, sir. The last we thing we were able to find out about them is that they went to Spain to be married. That was over ten years ago sir," Higgins answered. William ran through his brain, trying to remember if any of the constables spoke Spanish. He couldn't remember any. He instructed Henry, "Call the Canadian Consulate in Spain and see if anyone there speaks either English or French and then try to ascertain whether they can find any records on them."

"Right away sir," Higgins replied.

William stood in his office door. He realized that he had a moment and decided to go buy Julia some flowers. He popped his hat on his head and said to Higgins on his way out, "If anybody needs me I'll be over at the morgue." Higgins couldn't help but smile, the detective's ulterior motives apparent to anyone who knew the couple.

Over in the morgue, Julia and Miss James worked, wearing masks and gloves, on sifting the back-gray ashes through the series of sieves, shaking out the smaller and smaller particles, working to find Mr. Lynch's buttons. They had had no luck finding a button so far, but pressed on.

Julia was playing songs on the Victrola. Miss James noted that her choices for the day seemed to be made up of sad songs. Julia explained, "I am feeling … melancholy today – I feel better when the music matches my mood." Miss James claimed to have a record with the saddest song she had ever heard. She played it for Julia.

It was a Negro-spiritualist song called, "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child." As it played and they worked, Julia was lured into memories; William sitting on the porch bench, nearly drowning in the pain of having been orphaned by his mother's death and his father's neglect; Sweet little Katie, trying to play with the other children at the orphanage, while she and William spoke with her little sister Chelsea, considering adopting her without adopting Katie as well; And then her standing at her own mother's death bed. Unaware of it, she had started to cry.

Miss James asked, "Doctor, should I take the song off? Is it bothering you?"

When their eyes met, Miss James knew she would not. Julia said to her, "No, please Miss James. It's absolutely the most wonderfully saddest song I've ever heard. Could I borrow it to play for my husband?" she asked. Miss James said 'yes.' She hoped to play it for William tonight. They would likely be alone. Hopefully the children would be safely on their way to Judith's house by then. The thought reminded her to call Judith again. She had been having trouble getting in touch with her.

He usually bought yellow roses, like they had had at their wedding, but the passion he was feeling pushed him towards the red ones. They were safely attached to the back of his bicycle, along with a box of chocolates as he pulled up next to the morgue. He propped the bike against the wall, unloaded his gifts and headed inside.

As he had done so many times before, William paused to notice the Victrola near the entrance. From the first moment he had seen it, nearly two decades ago, the phonograph player had come to represent the unique, and truly intoxicatingly matchless style of its owner. The record had finished playing and he put the needle back in its stand. Before he could lift his eyes, she'd already placed hers upon him.

Seeing the flowers in his hands, she pulled the goggles off of her face and instinctively called out, "William," rather than call him detective, which she usually did during the routines of a workday in the morgue.

Miss James looked up through her goggles to see him with Julia's call. She couldn't help but smile and shake her head. The straight-laced, quirky detective had a romantic side; it always surprised her.

William and Julia's eyes met, each soaking in the beauty of the other and enjoying the pleasant ways their bodies reacted to each other. As he stepped down to join them in the theater, he enthusiastically said, "Julia," then he turned to Miss James, "Miss James, Good morning." He looked back at his wife some of the happiness draining from his face as he noticed how truly unpleasant the task they were performing was. The smell of ashes permeated the air and both women were covered in a thin grey dust. He wrinkled up his face like he did when he was regretting something he'd said or done and said, "Sorry." Julia looked almost raccoon-like as the goggles had kept the grey film off of the circles of skin around her eyes and nowhere else. A part of him wanted to laugh; he pushed it aside.

"It is absolutely awful, William," she complained.

Now standing quite close to her he noticed her red eyes and her tear-streamed cheeks. He tenderly reached up to dry a tear with a caress of his thumb and asked, "So bad it has brought you to tears?" his face betraying his disbelief, suggesting a joke. Her chuckle encouraged him and he joined her in the laugh.

Julia dropped her eyes and then rejoined his to explain, "Um, No ... Miss James shared a sad song with me. It invoked a strong reaction in me is all." She looked away and then added, voice whispering for privacy, "I was going to share it with you tonight."

William lifted a brow and said, "Do you think I would enjoy such a sad song?"

"No, but I think ... Um, Well, it can be very cathartic, much like last night," she urged.

"Oh," William replied with a nod, not feeling convinced that it was an experience he wanted to have. She spied his gifts. Her insides melted. She felt his breath on her ear as he leaned close to her. "I thought I'd remind you how much I love you," he whispered.

Her breath warming his neck she replied, "Consider me delightfully reminded husband." She held out her hands, drawing attention to the ash-laden gloves prohibiting her from taking his presents without getting them dirty.

William said he'd put the flowers in a vase for her, and leave the chocolates on her desk for later. As he walked away to do so, he asked, "Have you been able to get in touch with …" He hesitated, even though he knew Miss James could be trusted, their plan for where to send the children was by its very nature intended to be secret.

Julia knew exactly what he was asking and quickly replied, "Um … No. There has been no answer. I expect to have better luck in the afternoon, um, knowing the usual schedule." The mood had changed as the spotlight had returned to their current danger.

Walking up behind her to peer over her shoulder at the working of the sieve, he said, his tone now quite professional, "Please let me know when you find a button doctor."

She responded, matching his professional tone, "Of course detective, but I think you should consider that "if we find a button" rather than "when" based on how it's going so far."

"Fair enough," he replied and took his leave.

Back at his desk, William stared out his window contemplating the myriad aspects of the cases, frustrated that he still was not even certain whether or not they were linked. Although he watched as some birds pecked around on the ground searching for food, he was much more focused on his thoughts. "And what has happened to Clegg," he wondered. He planned to have constables use Clegg's photo to ask around down at the docks to see if anyone has seen him, adding it to the constable to-do list. He decided to make the extra photos himself, retrieving the camera from Constable Crabtree's desk.

Detective Gulliver returned, the smile on his face bordering on being smug. His efforts had come up with a connection, a possible lead. One of the nitrogen suppliers had recognized Mr. Lynch, said he had been one of the men who picked up an order, about three weeks ago. There was no name associated with the order, and it was paid in cash, thus the lead went dry pretty quickly, but they now knew Lynch was connected to Connor, by more than just having black ink on his shoes and fine-grained cotton fibers on his clothing. They also knew the order was big. This was worrisome, indicating that they were building many, many bombs.

Higgins popped his head in to tell the two detectives that a body had been found in the middle of a school's sports-field.

"Please call Dr. Ogden and let her know. We'll take a police carriage to the scene and meet her there," Murdoch instructed. Detective Gulliver rubbed his hands together, his excitement apparent. Murdoch sighed, reminding himself of the morbid nature of what they were about to do, but he had to admit that if he were in the younger man's shoes, he would likely have felt the same way.

Having arrived before Dr. Ogden, the two detectives made a quick assessment of the scene. Murdoch insisted they look at the scene through the lens of safety, as there had been multiple attempts to kill members of the Constabulary. He voiced his concern about the location of the body to Gulliver. In order to get to the body, they would have to walk out into the middle of this field which was surrounded by places to hide. Rifle fire could easily be used to pick them of much like fish in a barrel. Further, he explained, the body itself could be rigged, with a bomb for instance, or even poison again. Murdoch found himself glancing up at the sky, half expecting to see a dirigible approaching.

Detective Gulliver found the detective to be paranoid. He was working to hold his tongue. He was much more interested in looking for the carriage from the morgue. He was excited about meeting Dr. Ogden. He had his reasons. It was Gulliver who spotted the carriage first, alerting Murdoch.

The carriage pulled to a stop and Dr. Ogden prepared to exit out of the front section located in front of the long section meant to carry the body. Detective Gulliver stood directly in front of the doctor's door; a surprised and dirty look from Murdoch not sufficient for him to give up his ground. He held a hand out to her as she stepped down.

Julia said, "Oh. You must be Detective Gulliver. I am glad to meet you. I'm Dr. Ogden." Once she stood before him she found she had to look up as he was quite tall – handsome too, she noticed.

He took her hand and raised it up to kiss it, prompting Julia to giggle slightly at the somewhat romantic gesture and glance at William. "It is a pleasure," Gulliver said. His eyes dilated as he looked upon her and he said, "Your reputation precedes you, but I'm surprised no one mentioned your astounding beauty as one of your many assets. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

William was seething. He had been trying to decide whether or not he liked the young detective, now he was certain that he did not. "A-hem," Detective Murdoch cleared his throat. With his eyes glaring at Julia he said, "Shall we get to the crime-scene?"

Julia pulled her hand away from Detective Gulliver and immediately became apologetic in stature, "Yes, yes. Of course detective … The body appears to be in the middle of the field. How do you think we should proceed … I mean in light of all the current threats and dangers we've been encountering?" she asked, sounding deferential.

Gulliver thought the body language between the two was odd. He found a need to remind himself that Murdoch was a married man, and certainly had a reputation of being morally upstanding, even prudish, and yet there seemed to be an almost romantic air about them, albeit a stiff one. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts as Murdoch decided to highlight his inferior position by quizzing his "student" about what procedures would be best in this situation.

As a precaution against sniper fire from the surrounding woods and buildings, both the morgue carriage and the Constabulary carriage were pulled in to surround the body, thus blocking any potential shots from those areas. Dr. Ogden provided everyone at the scene with gloves, explaining that, as the Chief Coroner, she had made it a mandated procedure when dealing with a dead body. And Murdoch had instructed that everyone be on the lookout for anything that could be a bomb or a tripwire or any other means to detonate one.

Having instructed Gulliver to oversee the placement of the carriages, William and Julia stood alone together for a brief moment, still a distance from the body. Managing to keep his jealousy at bay, William glanced at his wife sideways, magnifying his gorgeous eyes, and with a tone of teasing in his voice, said, "So Dr. Ogden, was that payback for what happened with Claire-Marie this morning?"

The question took her by surprise. "I'll have to consider it," she answered. As they turned to walk together to the body she added, "Although you certainly do deserve some, hmm?" with a soft poke of her elbow against his side.

A shy smile crept up on his face, "Perhaps," he answered. There was the slightest blush.

As the three of them stood over the body it was apparent that the man had suffered hideous injuries. He wore only an undershirt, trousers, and shoes. The undershirt revealed an enormous hole in his upper arm that was about three inches around and easily an inch or two deep. It looked as if the skin had almost been picked or gouged out, and bone fragments and splinters could be seen mixed with the flesh. His other arm was completely missing, the location of the point from which it had been severed somewhat obscured by the sleeve of his shirt. There was an awful smell in the area – like sulphur, prompting Ogden and Murdoch to consider the presence of a poison that acts through inhalation. They decided the threat was minimal as the location was out in the open air, rendering concentrations of a given gas to be very small.

Detective Murdoch spoke first, "Similar to yesterday … Horrible wounds."

The doctor asked, "An arm is missing. Do you think it was an attempt to remove the fingermarks again?"

"I doubt it," Murdoch answered, "The right hand is still intact."

Dr. Ogden squatted down next to the body. Before he joined her on the opposite side of the body, William surveyed the area looking for threats once more. Gulliver watched on, thinking that the look shared between the two of them was a little too long, confirming his suspicions of a more amorous association.

William checked the trouser pockets. He was hoping to find something to help identify the victim. They were empty. He called out to a constable to inquire back at the school to determine who had found the body and whether or not there is someone here who could identify him. The man's face was relatively undamaged.

Julia said, "I think I've found the cause of death. Look here detective…" William stepped over to look where she was examining the man's neck. Gulliver was standing behind him and leaned over to see as well. She continued, "Here where the metal from the cross on his necklace has burned to the skin. Help me check the bottoms of his shoes…"

Sounding excited William exclaimed, "Brilliant doctor. You suspect lightning?"

Gulliver was impressed because he never would have thought such a thing, and not only did the doctor know the signs of a lightning strike, but the detective seemed to as well.

As they bent down close to the man's feet to examine the shoes, William asked, "But in order to consider lightning strike as a cause of death, wouldn't there have to have been storms in the area?"

"Yes, that is right detective. And there were quite severe storms in the middle of the night last night…" Ogden replied, her eyes focused on what seemed to be the soles of the shoe.

William said, "Oh?" the question drawing Dr. Ogden's gaze. He held her eye as he added, "I must have slept through them then."

A slight smile grew across the doctor's mouth as she dropped her chin and glanced away. "Yes – yes you did," she said, lifting her head and catching his eye and once again, holding it too long.

"Definitely," thought Gulliver.

Ogden turned back to the task at hand. She stuck a gloved finger between the sole of the shoe and the leather toe section, demonstrating that they had been torn apart.

The detective noted the same thing on the other shoe. "That confirms it then?" Murdoch asked.

"Yes, I would say so," Ogden replied.

The doctor stood, Murdoch following suit. She took a deep breath and said, "Time of death is challenging with lightning strike victims. The rigor is affected by the electrical currents running through the body. I will be able to confirm my suspicions as to the cause of death back at the morgue, with tympanic membrane rupture…"

The detective exclaimed, "Of course, perforated ear drums."

The doctor nodded and continued, "And cardiac arrest."

With a slight bow to her, Murdoch said, "Very good doctor."

The doctor became engaged in addressing the men who would transport the body. The two detectives stood together, both watching Dr. Ogden walk away. Much to Murdoch's surprise and disapproval, Detective Gulliver's questions were of a personal nature rather than a professional one.

"Forgive me sir if I overstep my bounds, but aren't you married sir?" he asked.

William's jaw dropped. He was too thrown by the direct and inappropriate question to reply.

Noticing the look on his mentor's face, Gulliver tried to explain, "I mean you wear a wedding ring sir. Told me you were married. And the Inspector even commented about your marriage being the cause of your tardiness this morning. Do you really think it is appropriate to behave in such a … flirtatious way with doct…"

"Sirs!" a constable called out from the field. "Doctor! I believe we've found his arm sir," he finished. Sure enough, a good thirty feet away from the rest of the body, there was the man's arm. It was loaded up into the morgue carriage with the rest of the body.

Another constable arrived at Murdoch's side to introduce the man who had called in the body. He knew the man. He worked part-time as a janitor here at the school. As best as they could tell, the man had returned here after a night of drinking to close up, and then got struck by lightning as he headed home during the storm.

During the carriage ride back to the station the two detectives sat in silence. Murdoch struggled with what to say to Detective Gulliver. He knew Americans were known to lack tact, but he believed the man had gone too far. Further, he clearly did not know that Dr. Ogden WAS his wife, a mistake that might be forgivable as they do not share the same last name. Before he could think of what to say, Gulliver started. As they were already turning down the road to the stationhouse, he would likely not have much time to set the man straight.

"I was out of line back there detective, and I apologize. Your personal relationships are none of my business. I am embarrassed by my behavior. I hope you will be willing to give me another chance," the younger man offered.

A sense of relief spread through him, now he would not have to confront the young man, or try to teach him about what is proper professional behavior. William wrinkled up a corner of his mouth, suggesting he was willing to let bygones be bygones, and replied, "I will try."

As they exited the carriage, Gulliver said, "I can't ask for better than that sir. Thank you."

Before they had even walked in the stationhouse door, Crabtree jumped up from the front seats and hurried over. "Detective …" Crabtree said, but noticing there were two of them he expounded, "Er, Detective Murdoch, sir," he started, seeming both nervous and excited.

"What have you George?" Murdoch asked.

He explained, "Well sir, the woman serving time in the Don Jail was not Isabel Webster as you and Dr. Ogden had suspected. She did not look familiar to me right up front, and then her fingermarks didn't match…"

"Very good George," the detective said. "We will need to interrogate her. You will need to …"

Crabtree interrupted, "Already done sir. She's waiting in the interrogation room."

Murdoch stood up taller, acknowledging the man. "Excellent work George!" he exclaimed.

"Thank you sir," George replied, glancing at the new detective. Try as he might, he seemed unable not to feel jealous of the man.

William wanted Julia to know what they had found. He knew she'd be in the middle of the autopsy now, and so would likely miss the interview. He added, "And George, could you please give a call over to the morgue and tell Dr. Ogden about what you found out about Miss Webster?"

"Yes sir," he answered, "Oh and sir, Higgins said that Miss Dawes and Mr. Rodriguez did return to Canada, just about a month ago. He went to see if they could be found at the address he was given."

The three men had nearly arrived at Murdoch's office when Murdoch said, "It is looking like our victim was most likely Miss Dawes… And Isabel Webster is our prime suspect."

In the exercise yard at the Don Jail, Sally Smoot, AKA Countess Fausta, had an appointment to meet with Cecily McKinnon. She had heard that McKinnon had put a hit out on Dr. Ogden and was having trouble getting it completed. She also had heard that McKinnon could help her escape. At first McKinnon saw nothing that Smoot could offer her in return for being included in the escape, but then the woman argued her case. It turns out that Ogden had had an abortion. Smoot knew the name of the doctor who would have proof that Ogden had had the procedure. Once they had the proof, they could go to the press. Once the papers reported that Dr. Ogden had had an abortion and they had the medical records to prove it, there would be a trial and Ogden would be found guilty. The penalty for having an abortion was death. At best, she would get life in prison. All McKinnon needed to do was agree to include Sally Smoot in the escape plans and Ogden was as good as dead. Although McKinnon didn't have anything against Ogden, she figured the distraction and stress caused by having his wife sentenced to death or life in prison would be enough to throw Murdoch off his game. She agreed, provided the news stories could be running within two days. Dr. Tash's office was burgled before night's end.

During the interrogation, Murdoch determined that the woman in custody, Harriet Ward, had been found guilty of prostitution about a year ago. Because her appearance resembled Miss Webster's, she was "asked" to switch places with Miss Webster in the Don Jail, allowing Miss Webster to escape about three months ago. Miss Ward adamantly refused to tell them who did the asking, claiming that she was shown pictures of her young children at the orphanage regularly as a means of proving that they would be killed if she talked. Even when threatened with being returned to the prison and spreading rumors that she had given up the identity of this person, she would not bend. She said she would rather take her chances back in the prison and in danger than risk her children's lives. Murdoch decided to keep her in Stationhouse #4's cells for a while to see if her presence could be useful later in some way.

When Detective Gulliver and detective Murdoch got back to his office, Julia was waiting for them. She held a wrapped up cloth in her hands and a reagent bottle. She proudly said, "Gentlemen, thanks to Miss James, I have your buttons!"

Murdoch stood back and said, "Wonderful doctor." He quickly took the buttons and the chemical he would use to remove the excess silt and headed for the worktable. He went to the back room to get the materials he would need.

Detective Gulliver saw this as his chance. As Julia took a seat on one of the stools at the table, he came to stand directly in front of her. He placed a hand down on the table, bringing his eyes closer in line with hers and then leaned into her space. Julia felt uncomfortable, but did not back off. Gulliver seductively said, "So doctor, as you know I'm new in town," his eyes dropped down to her bosom for a moment before he looked up into her eyes again, "And I would love to have the company of a beautiful woman like yourself as I become," he leaned closer to her and breathed in, seeming to smell her before he breathed out, his proximity allowing her to feel his breath on her neck, "more familiar with…"

William walked back into the room and halted at the sight.

"Toronto," Gulliver finished.

William demanded, "Detective Gulliver …" but he saw Julia hold a hand out towards him telling him to stop. Against his better judgment, he decided to let her handle it her way.

She asked Gulliver, "Detective, I am easily twice your age …"

The young man interrupted her, "I pay your age no mind. Actually, I prefer a more mature woman. One who knows her way around the bedroom and better appreciates the things a young, strong man like myself has to offer."

Julia saw William reach up to rub his forehead. She was working to close her mouth herself, feeling that her jaw had dropped with the shock. She leaned back to get more distance between them, even though she had planned on convincing him to do so instead of her, and said, "Detective Gulliver …"

"Oh Julia, please do call me Dorian," he requested.

She began again, "Detective Gulliver, Do you not think it wise to determine whether or not a woman is married before you make such proposals? Why you could simply look for a wedding ring could you not?"

Gulliver's eyes dropped down to explore her bosom again, glancing at her hand.

William noticed his hands were curled into fists. Although Julia did not seem to be attracted to the man the whole situation was more than he could take. He exhaled sharply, preparing to attack. Julia noticed and once again asked him to stop, holding up her hand to halt him once more. He called on his "amazing self-control."

Gulliver looked back at her again and said, "Again, not a deterrent for me. I suspect that Mr. Ogden has become quite boring, particularly in the bedroom. Your being married only makes me more desirable."

Julia stood up off of the stool, pushing her chest against his as she did so. She was relieved that he took a step back. She said, "I really do think you have a thing or two to learn about women detective. In my case…" she put her hand on his chest, near his heart (which she could feel was beating very fast) and pushed him back away from her, "My husband has encouraged me to keep my own name even after we married, as a sign of respect. So, there really isn't a Mr. Ogden per se. And, if you must know, my husband's performance in the bedroom far exceeds anything a young, arrogant, self-involved, male-chauvinist pri …" Julia paused, stopping herself from using the derogatory word. She stepped between Gulliver and the worktable, taking the most direct route towards William and asked, "Would you like to know my husband's last name detective? I think you might find it very interesting."

Gulliver's face took on a tone of regret. He remembered the way she and Murdoch had interacted earlier, and he had figured out that she was his wife. His mind was racing so quickly into a jumble that he felt dizzy.

Julia said to William, "William, I owe you an explanation. I didn't really want to embarrass him so, but his attitude towards women, his belief that they would all just melt at the thought of having sex with him, so angered me that I lost control of myself. I'm sorry William."

William realized that he had had a similar reaction to the man.

The problem they all faced now was that they needed to work together after such an awkward experience. They needed to fix it and move on. The cases they were working on were far too urgent to let such matters get in their way. William had no idea how to go about repairing it, but he suspected it would actually be Julia who could figure it out.

As if to prove him right, it was she who took action. She addressed Detective Gulliver, "I have apologized to my husband for my inappropriate behavior, and now I believe I need to apologize to you for it as well. It was unfair of me to allow you to proposition me so without informing you of my marriage to … well, to the man you report directly to." She looked to him, waiting for his reaction.

Detective Gulliver took a seat on the stool. With his eyes down he decided it would be best to come clean. He said, "I am very ashamed. I wanted more than anything to have your respect Detective Murdoch, and it will be that much harder now to earn it. And as for you Dr. Ogden, you are right that I am arrogant and I do expect women to find me attractive. To be honest, they usually do. But I behaved in such a way with you because I found you to be particularly appealing… Perhaps because of your professional accomplishments, or the drive and intellect you have that allowed you to get so far in the world as a woman. I am not quite sure, but truthfully, I was smitten, and unfortunately I relied on what I believed to be my sex-appeal to have a chance with you. Of course, I know now that I never had a chance with you for all sorts of reasons, but I want you to know, it wasn't because I thought badly of you … Quite the opposite… So, I'm sorry to both of you."

Detective Gulliver was still unable to look either of them in the eye, but William and Julia looked to each other. Julia lowered her head slightly; William took it to mean she thought he should say something. His head started to buzz. He cleared his throat and said, "I for one am willing to try to see that each of us made mistakes here. I certainly should have told you that Dr. Ogden and I were married. I just took it for granted that you knew. Everyone here knows and I am truly surprised you could be in this station for two days and not have had anyone actually say something about it. Once I realized you did not know, I should have told you. I'm sorry I did not. It's just that I am not one to talk about my private affairs easily." To that Julia giggled. William chuckled as well and added, "As you can tell by my wife's reaction."

The touch of humor helped, and Gulliver took the chance of looking him in the eye. He stood and directly spoke to Murdoch, "I have to thank you, again, for being willing to try with me, again. I feel I do not deserve it, but I am surely grateful for it."

"So then, let's see if my idea about lifting fingermarks from incinerated surfaces will work," Murdoch said happily, clasping his hands together with excitement.

Julia marveled at how quickly her husband's childlike curiosity surged through him. He was truly one of a kind. "I will leave you two to it, and get back to my post-mortem then. Oh, and William our plan for tonight is a go. Both phone calls have been made. Can you arrange the transportation?" she asked. He nodded. "Great. Then I bid you good-day gentlemen," Julia said and took her leave.

William took a moment to go to the stationhouse stables and arrange for a man to take the carriage to his house around midnight. The children and Claire-Marie would be escorted to Judith's house up the hill from their lake-house.

Once William got back to his office, the two detectives poured their attention into their work, soon getting over the awkwardness and replacing it with a healthy dose of teamwork. It didn't hurt that the procedure worked, and even more amazingly, that they found a thumb print that matched Isabel Webster's. They had her for murder, if they could only find her before she found them.

Constable Jackson burst into Murdoch's office, causing both detectives to jump and look up. Nearly screaming he said, "Sir, there's been a home intrusion… Sir, it's your house!"

"What?" Murdoch asked, already moving towards the door.

"I'm sorry sir. A neighbor of yours called. She said she saw a bunch of men in masks pull up with at least two carriages. They rushed into your front-door. Sir, she said the constable posted was lying on the ground," Jackson blurted out the information as Murdoch grabbed his hat and ran for the door.

"We'll need the carriages… Break out the armory… Tell the Inspector. I'm going to go get Julia. Get us that carriage!" he hollered before he was out the front door and gone.

When they arrived at the house, their neighbor was standing at the front gate. The front-door was wide open, and Constable Shaffer was lying on the ground. William had jumped out of the carriage before it had stopped. "Did you see them take the children?" he yelled, tears in his eyes.

"No!" the woman hurriedly replied. "But I think there were men at the backdoor too," she warned.

William was already up the porch steps by the time she finished her sentence. With barely a glance to determine whether or not Shaffer had been killed, he bolted into the house. "William Jr., Katie!" he called out. William's eyes caught the scrutiny camera and he thought that it could help but it would take too long. He ran to the back door. It had been burst open. He stepped out onto the back patio. It was broad daylight. No one was within sight. He rushed up the stairs. "Chelsea, Katie!" he called again.

Julia brought the neighbor to the porch with her. Another constable was tending to Shaffer, he was alive. The Inspector ran past her into the house carrying a rifle. Julia ran down the stairs to the playroom, tears and panic turning her voice into shriveled-up shrieks, "Katie! William Jr.! Please God!" It was empty, left untidy. They were probably in here… "Oh my God," Julia thought, feeling the panic taking her away, "They were gone!"

The Inspector put an arm around her. "They're not here. Let's go back upstairs," he said.

She leaned on him hard. She was having trouble standing. Once she got to the top of the stairs she saw William. She had to slow her breathing, she knew it, in order not to faint, in order to hear what he was saying.

"Julia, they got away! They used the secret passageways and the tunnel. There is a lamp – still warm to the touch, at the end of the tunnel. Did you hear me? They got away," William said, hope in his eyes. He took her upstairs and showed her the scratches on the floor in Katie and Chelsea's room where the hidden door had opened.

"But William," Julia said, feeling less panicked, "For all we know, it could be only one of them that escaped – or …" fear covered her face again and her voice rose into a screech as tears filled her eyes once again, "Or the men could have followed them into the tunnel."

He took a deep breath. Experience had taught him to work to stay in control and focused. He looked firmly into her eyes. He took another deep breath, guiding her to do the same. Then he said, "Mrs. Banks said that she saw the men leave without any children. I think we can assume they got away." He took her arm and brought her downstairs.

"But if they got away, why aren't they here? Wouldn't they come back here?" she asked.

"No, I don't think so. They would worry that the bad men were still here," he suggested.

Out on the porch the Inspector was addressing the constables. Shaffer was conscious now. From down the road, Claire-Marie came running. Once they spotted her they ran to her, meeting her at the front gate. She was so out of breath she could not speak. William called out statements, giving her the opportunity to nod or shake her head to answer. "Did the children get away?" he asked. She nodded 'yes.' Julia clasped her hands in front of her chest and appeared to pray for a moment. William reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. They shared a relieved and grateful look. William turned back to Claire-Marie. He asked, "Where are they?" but quickly realized she could not answer that with a 'yes' or 'no.' "Do you know where they are? he tried again. She nodded her head 'no.' He reached for Julia, knowing she would be upset. William made himself take another deep breath.

Claire-Marie held one hand to her chest, but lifted her other hand to signal she was going to try to speak now. "William Jr…" she breathed, "said he …" she breathed again, "knew where to go."

"Good. Good," William said.

Claire-Marie took another deep breath. Recovered enough to explain more, she told them the whole story. "Mrs. Banks called to warn us that the constable out front seemed to be lying on the ground unconscious. Then while she was on the phone she said that some carriages had pulled up to the house – And a lot of men wearing masks were getting out, coming to the front door, some around the back. I dropped the phone and turned to the children and asked if they knew a place to hide. They took me upstairs into the girl's room and opened up a door to the secret passageways. We heard the men's footsteps and the backdoor break opened. We went so fast into the darkness. William Jr. knew there would be a lantern down at the bottom of the ladder and we had to be so quiet as we crawled down, so they wouldn't hear us in the walls. Once we were in the tunnel, I lit the lamp. We made our way to the end. It was far enough in the woods that they didn't see us crawling out. But we could see through the trees that the men were still looking for us. Some were even on the roof. William Jr. said he knew a place to go. I gave him all the money I had, 5 dollars, and I decided it would be best if I stayed back in case the men came this way, then I would take off in the opposite direction to pull them off of the children."

William looked at Julia and said, "It looks like they are safe." She tried to believe him, having coached herself that panicking would accomplish nothing.

Eloise returned; it was the time of day that she usually started supper. It was agreed that Claire-Marie and Eloise and Eloise's husband would stay here at the house in case the children came back here. William and Julia packed bags and planned on working straight through at the station until the children were found. They notified the press, requesting that they publish the children's photos and ask citizens to keep a look out and notify them if they see anything. They decided to try searching in places that they thought William Jr. might think of to go. They tried his friends, the Club, William's church, even Dr. Tash's place, all to no avail. They made endless phone calls to anyone and everyone they could think of. William developed the film from the scrutiny cameras. None of the men could be recognized because of the masks. They would try to find the carriages tomorrow.

Now nearly midnight, William and Julia sat in William's office, the stationhouse lights dim, only one or two constables on over-night duty, the adrenaline had run down, their hearts and breathing were slowed. They each fought against panic and despair. When one of them would begin to weaken, the other would say something logical and helpful, like "The evidence suggests they are safe." William argued that they needed to try to get some sleep. That there was nothing they could do right now, and that they wouldn't think as well if they hadn't slept. He suggested that they try to sleep for a while in his reclining chair. They had done this many, many years before when they had had a big argument and they needed to talk it through. It was a good memory, and it helped them remember to have hope. They used the stationhouse bathroom to brush their teeth and for Julia to remove her corset. They pulled down the shades in the office and Julia slid in next to William on the chair, resting her legs over his. Sleep came.

Now, in the midst of the storm, it is most important to keep your wits about you. Mistakes at this point can be deadly. Stay alert, ready to run, ready to duck. Know and use places to hide for safety. Remember all things you have learned. Use the light from the flashes to see, to help you make decisions about which way to go, and whether it is best to go at all. William and Julia are together, but their children are in grave danger. Threats are striking from all sides. And the rumbling of panic in their heads clouds their use of their strongest asset – their minds. Stay focused on the task at hand. Stay present in the now. Avoid the distraction caused by letting your mind race ahead to all of the awful things that could happen, but at the same time plan ahead to get where you need to be. This is living life on the edge – Can William and Julia keep their balance?