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.

13. Chapter 13

Thunderstorms – Continued

Chapter 13: Thursday, August 14, 1913

The pudgy older woman paused at the newspaper stand, reading the headlines for the day. The Toronto Gazette particularly caught her eye. There were two headlines above the fold, both were about her mistress. The first headline read, "Toronto's Cinderella: Detective Husband Finds Shoe After Julia Ogden Abducted." The second headline added, "Dr. Ogden Faces Gallows Again: Suffragist Leader Had Abortion." Eloise's heart raced as much as it sunk. How was it possible for one couple to undergo so many disasters in their lifetimes? Below the fold, still on the first page, there was an article with pictures of the three Murdoch children, urging for anyone seeing them to notify the Constabulary. "Really, could the news get any worse?" she thought. She purchased the paper out of habit, even though the man she bought it for would not be home today. As she tucked the paper under her arm she decided that she would cook the detective a breakfast anyway, and then bring it to him at stationhouse #4. Ever since the first time she had met William Murdoch she had found a place in her heart for him, and that place was now hurting. "A warm breakfast and a sympathetic heart could do him good," she thought.

The Inspector, Detective Gulliver and Constable Crabtree stood together in the bullpen, all eyes on Detective Murdoch who had fallen asleep at the worktable in his office. "Poor bugger," the Inspector said.

Crabtree sadly added, "It just breaks my heart sir. There's never been a finer man. Sometimes I wonder how he survives it all."

The new detective also felt badly for his mentor, but he knew that the best thing they could do for him was to get moving on finding who had taken Julia. Trying to sound optimistic he said, "George, let's head out to the ice companies now. I believe they will have opened early."

The Inspector stood up taller and said, "Good thinking Gulliver. All this moping about isn't going to help anybody." The two men grabbed their hats and headed out. The Inspector looked back at Murdoch, feeling the pain re-take his heart. He decided to let him sleep a little longer and went into his office.

Julia had come-to a couple of hours ago. The searing pain in her head and her neck served to remind her where she was, and how she had gotten there, despite the darkness. She lay still in the trunk, forcing her focus away from the hurts, the nausea, and the fear, to hone in on detecting any human movement outside of the trunk. She had heard a carriage go by a few minutes ago. She figured she was about twenty feet away from the road. Yelling and pounding on the trunk would be futile, she reasoned, because the noise of being in the vehicle, the hoof-beats and rattling, would drown out even the loudest sounds she could make. She wondered if the sun had come up and she couldn't tell because of the tight seals along the seams of the trunk. "Time will tell," she thought.

Her attention drifted back to her immediate environment, having decided that even if there were people about, she could do nothing to alert them to her peril. Her hands were bound, but she was able to move her wrists enough to feel that she was still wearing her watchlet, although it was no longer making a ticking sound. It either broke in the fall or needed to be wound. Suddenly she remembered her purse. "Is it still there?" she thought, hope surging through her. She lifted her arms and gasped with eager relief as she felt the string attached around her wrist pull taught. "Yes!" she thought, quickly wiggling and shifting to try to free it from underneath her body. The pearl-handled pocketknife William had given her was in there. It would be a challenge, but if she could get to it, she could probably …

His dreams had consisted mostly of memories at first. Julia with her head pressed back against the carriage, glancing sideways at him and saying, "God I love you;" Then, he was walking back into the bedroom to hear Katie ask her, "Then why do you and Daddy make love?" This one prompted him to stir in his sleep as he raised an eyebrow slightly and started to blush, some of the signals hazily making it out of his brain to stimulate his body. Next, they were in the shower together, her back to him and he could feel her soapy skin sliding lusciously under his hands, her backside gliding along his stomach and chest as he lowered himself and moved in closer. But then, unrealistic elements began to appear. Julia shrunken down in size, trapped in an hour glass as Sally Pendrick dangled it over an open flame, torturing her, threatening her life, and then laughing as she somehow changed into Eva Pearce while James Pendrick was flying overhead in a dirigible, shooting at the tiny timepiece which imprisoned Julia in Eva's hand, thinking he could break the glass to free Julia without accidently killing her. William ran, yelling for Pendrick to stop, again stirring in his sleep as his leg actually kicked and his throat mumbled out a sound. He stumbled over a pigeon, fell to the ground. He looked back at the bird. There was a message on its leg. He opened the note and heard Julia's voice read the words to him, "Look in the paper William." He looked back to the fire, to see if Julia was still alive. Now just a smoldering pile of ash, there was no one there – she was gone. He fell to his knees, tears took his eyes and sobs took his throat. It was the sobbing that awoke him.

He grounded quickly, remembering where he was, why he had fallen asleep there. At first his memories consisted of merely facts, "The children are safe at Judith's. Julia is missing – maybe already dead." Emotions were absent. His neck hurt from the awkward position he had been slumped into at the worktable. The pain sunk away as anger percolated up into his awareness. It grew stronger and stronger at an exponential rate. He stood up, walked to the window. It was morning, but the pigeons were not there. "It's after eight o'clock," he thought. He knew they would be back later, around two or three. He tried to push the rage away, taking a deep breath, telling himself to focus on the clues. Suddenly, as if it were the action of someone else, he punched the wall, surprising himself with the sound, becoming even more furious when feeling the surge of pain. He gritted his teeth together with such force that he thought they might crack. Refusing to nurse the hand, he turned to find his bag. He had packed another set of undergarments. He would prepare for the day.

Murdoch walked out of the constabulary bathroom feeling better. He picked up his messages and headed back to his office, noticing that Gulliver and Crabtree were not there. Taking a seat at his desk, he read his first message. It was from Dr. Tash; it said to please call. He did so, getting the doctor's secretary on the phone first, he let her know who he was and waited.

Tash's voice sounded harried, stressed, "Yes detective, um William. I just wanted to try to explain… About what the papers are saying.

William felt at a disadvantage; he hadn't yet read the newspaper. "Is Tash related to Julia being missing?" he thought. William cleared his throat, his throat still dry from sleeping and said, "I'm sorry doctor, I haven't seen the paper yet this morning. Explain … what are you sorry about?

"Oh … Oh my, well, the papers are reporting that Julia had … an abortion … They are saying that it is my files that hold the proof…" he explained, guilt dripping off of his voice.

William was clearly thrown off by the news. His mind rushed to the likely consequences; Julia, if she was alive, would face another trial… another hanging.

The silence lasted too long and Tash grew anxious. "Um, William … I'm so sorry. It seems that when my office was broken into on Tuesday night, that it was my files on Julia that they were after," he continued.

Finally William pushed a sound out of his throat, "Oh. I see."

Tash went on, "I hadn't noticed that her files were missing, until after I saw the newspapers and then came down to check."

After a moment Tash said, "I'm afraid they are quite damning. I think she is in trouble…"

William took a deep breath and replied, "Yes." Then he asked, "Were any other files taken?"

"No," Tash replied.

William sighed and then asked, "Are you aware that she has been abducted …" He had to pause, he was beginning to choke-up. Unable to hide his distress he continued, "That she might already be dead." William's forehead wrinkled as he fought back tears. He reached up and rubbed it, trying to soothe himself.

Isaac's heart broke for the man. Of course he loved Julia himself, but he knew that he felt nothing like the pain and terror that Julia's husband was going through. His compassion was tugged – hard. "Yes, the papers are reporting that too … And that your children are still missing. I'm so, so sorry William. Is there anything I can do to help?"

William's head was too flustered, too overwhelmed, to think clearly. He said he would call back later after he had some time to think. He hung up the phone and felt frozen with shock. His eyes locked on the message to call Tash. How could he make this right? Could they ever be safe, be in the clear?

There was a knock on his doorframe. He looked up to see Eloise standing there with a picnic basket on her arm and a warm, sympathetic smile on her face.

William hurried to stand and greet her, "Eloise! What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?"

His authentic appreciation for her kind action was there; it was obvious. But she had seen it – before he had looked up and seen her; she had seen his despair. She swallowed, pushing down the burning in her chest as it welled upwards to overtake her throat and her eyes. She wanted to be strong for him. "Well detective," she said before taking a deep breath to calm herself more, "I thought you would probably have been too busy trying to save everybody to eat." She smiled at him.

William swallowed. He too was struggling to keep his emotions under control. He had an urge to fall into the woman's arms and weep. Another deep breath, then he replied, "Well, I have to say you are right about that Eloise. I am completely famished," he said while placing his hand on his stomach. He stepped back and opened his arm to invite her towards his desk (the worktable was still covered with clues from the case). He asked her to sit with him and she even had a little bit of the food she had packed. Without directly addressing how he was feeling – truly there was no need, she knew and he knew she knew, they talked about relevant things. He let her know, with a wink to signify the secrecy of the information, that the children were actually safe, but as the papers had supposedly said, Julia was not. She gave him the paper she had brought, suggesting he look it over after she left, for she knew that seeing the words typed on the page would crash the dire reality of the situation severely into his consciousness and she knew he would prefer to be alone when that happened.

He felt better after her visit. He thanked her and she left. He returned to his desk and sighed. He heard Julia's voice in his head, from the dream he had had earlier, "Look in the paper William." He lifted the paper. "Well, the girls would have liked to Cinderella part," he thought as he thanked himself for thinking to tell Claire-Marie, before she left to go join Judith and the children, to make sure to keep the papers away from the children. He was truly glad they would not see this. He only had to lift his eyes and change his focus to see it on the worktable – Julia's shoe. For the briefest moment he entertained the idea of being like Prince Charming and searching house by house for her. The world had gotten too big; such an action now would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. He stayed with the analogy a moment, asking himself what better ways there could be to find the needle. He thought of using a powerful magnet – a way to use the special characteristics of the needle that were different from the stalks of hay, to separate the needle from all of the other strands. In reality, his magnets were the clues, and he had to get back to them.

He went to the bullpen and asked where Gulliver and Crabtree had gone. He was told they were out checking ice companies for the grey and red buckboard. "Good," he said. And let's get back to those .38 caliber striation patterns and our files, as well as the .12 caliber records (because two of the victims had bullet wounds suggesting the use of a .12 caliber gun)," he instructed the constable. They got right to the work. The lads would do just about anything for the detective.

Before he went to talk to the Inspector he had decided he needed to talk with Tash. He wanted to lie… He wanted to save Julia from the noose before it got so close this time. He didn't even notice that he had stopped adding the caveat, "If she's still alive." He was working on the premise that she was. He would no longer stop to think she might be dead. He closed the office door and pulled the blinds. He called Tash.

William told Isaac his idea – to have Julia claim that the baby's father had forced her to have the abortion. He needed Isaac's help. He needed the name of a man from Julia's past who would not be harmed by such a lie. Perhaps someone who was dead and who had no survivors – no wife, no children? Isaac had two possible men in mind, of course neither was actually the father. William asked him if he would be willing to research the men's current situations. He explained that he would likely be under much scrutiny, both as Julia's husband and as an acting detective in the constabulary, whereas Isaac would probably not be. Isaac agreed and told him he would get back to him as soon as he knew. After he hung up the phone, William marveled at how much he had come to depend on the man. He really had considered turning him in for procuring abortions. How much he himself had changed, now planning on lying under oath if necessary… "No time to think about it now," he thought.

As he walked to the Inspector's office he saw that Meyers was in there as well. He wondered if the Inspector had told him that they had found that Clegg was asking around the docks about Jane. He knocked on the door and the two men turned. Their looks showed their concern for him, but there was something more, more like dread.

"Morning Murdoch," Meyers said with a puff on his cigar.

William nodded, "Mr. Meyers," he replied.

The Inspector signaled at a chair and said, "Have a seat Murdoch." William sat, the two other men sitting as well. The Inspector continued, "Well I guess I'll get right to it," he said looking at Meyers for approval. "Have you seen the morning papers detective?" he asked.

William nodded, "Yes, my housekeeper brought one by with some breakfast," he said, suddenly regretting his statement as it drew attention to his wealth as a result of marrying Julia. Fortunately, it seemed the other two men were more focused on whatever bad news they had to tell him than on teasing him for marrying into wealth.

Meyers leaned forward in his chair and asked, "So you know about the charges against Julia that she had an abortion then?"

William found he still cringed when Meyers used Julia's given name. If he had had time he would have lectured himself about how absolutely silly it was to continue to be jealous of their relationship, but now was certainly not the time. "Yes." He replied. He looked to the Inspector, there was obviously more. The moment he said it, said the man's name, the blood drained out of William's face …

"Chief Inspector Davis…" the Inspector paused to take a deep breath, knowing the impact would be great and that Murdoch was already anticipating what was coming, "… He wants Dr. Ogden arrested and charged with murder."

"Oh my God! Not again! I can't believe this is going to happen again," the thoughts swirled in William's brain.

The Inspector walked to the cupboard and took out his bottle of scotch. Murdoch needed a moment to recover, and besides, maybe this news was bad enough that even the teetotaler would want a drink. He said, as he tipped the bottle to Meyers and got a nod yes, "Sorry me ole' mucker," he tipped the bottle towards the detective, "Drink?"

"Uh, no sir. Thank you … I want to keep my head clear," William answered. "At least as clear as possible," he thought.

The Inspector went back to the bad news, "Davis wants us to bring Dr. Tash in for questioning … To determine whether, as Meyers and I have just been arguing with him … to find out if this is all just another part of the same set of attacks we've all been under. We need to know if the information in those files is true."

William nodded, waiting for more.

"Davis knows, as would anyone who reads the papers, that Tash is a friend of the good doctor's so he figures he might lie to protect her. He is working to get a judge to allow seizure of all of Tash's files … to compare handwriting and style of data entry and such."

"He's out for blood Murdoch," Meyers added.

There was a knock at the door. Constable Higgins stood there with a huge grin on his face. The Inspector barked, "Don't just stand there Higgins – spit it out!"

Higgins caught Murdoch's eye, "Sir, we found a match to the .38 caliber bullet from your home,"

William was having trouble remembering feeling hopeful until that moment. A smile grew on his face and he asked, "Magnificent! Who did the gun belong to?"

"Remember the Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kids wannabes," the constable asked, waiting for Murdoch to nod, "It was one of them, either Ed or Hoyt Obannon sir."

The Inspector gave Henry a slap on the back and congratulated him on his good work. Then he told him to get to work on finding the two men and figuring whether or not one of them still has the gun, and if not, then find out who does.

Murdoch reached the Inspector's door and then stopped and turned to face Meyers and said, "Oh, Mr. Meyers, we found out that Mr. Clegg was down at the docks asking about a doxie, showing a photograph of Jane. He was last seen three days ago. Perhaps he found something – got himself into trouble?"

Meyers inhaled on his cigar once more and then replied, "Perhaps… He was quite smitten with his spy. He might have been irrational, ruled more by his emotions than his reason."

Murdoch nodded in agreement. "I'll have one of the lads check the hospitals," he thought out loud.

As Murdoch passed through the bullpen, he asked Higgins to assign someone to bring Mr. Clegg's and Jane's photos and check the hospitals for them. He also wanted to know how it was going compiling a list of people from the files that they had records of using the smaller gun, the .12 caliber. Higgins retrieved the list they had so far from Constable Jackson. William took it into his office to look it over.

The list largely consisted of women, which did not surprise Murdoch for such a small gun. And, of course his prime suspect in these murders, Isabel Webster, was also a woman, so it made sense and he figured made it more likely that one of these women used to own the gun Webster was now using. He noticed that neither Eva Pearce nor Sally Hubbard (AKA Sally Pendrick) were on the list. Truth be told he was glad of it, though he reminded himself that the list was not yet complete.

Detective Gulliver returned with word from the larger ice companies. Giving Detective Murdoch the news, he explained, "One of the ice companies, Belle Ewart, pays their delivery men cash, and as such they do not keep a record of any of their names. However, the manager recognized the description of the grey buckboard with red trim." He smiled when he saw Murdoch's reaction; they were getting closer; it was a relief. "Constable Crabtree agreed to stay back at the place to keep an eye out for the man's return," Gulliver added.

"Good," Murdock said, "Very good." Murdoch informed Gulliver about their having found the men, brothers actually, who had used the same gun that shot the bullet into his wall, about ten years ago, when they robbed a bank. He elaborated, adding that the brothers had posed as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. He asked Detective Gulliver to help Higgins try to track them down. Murdoch went back to working on locating the people on the list who had previously been arrested and used a .12 caliber gun.

Constable Jackson knocked on Murdoch's doorframe. "There's a call about a body sir…"

It was not until that very moment that William realized that Julia would also be missed in her professional capacity as well. His eyes met Jackson's; he could tell there was more.

"Sir … It's a female, blond hair and light blue dress," he added, knowing the description fit that of Murdoch's wife and what she was wearing when she had been abducted. "I'm sorry sir …"

"Where?!" William said, hat already in hand.

"Smalls Pond," the constable answered.

"Tell the Inspector," William yelled as he ran out of the stationhouse and hailed a cab. Detective Gulliver chased after him and hopped into the cab with him.

When they arrived at the pond, they spotted a young man with a fishing pole pacing nervously. They asked if he had seen the body and he said yes and pointed, saying it was out at the end of the dock. The two detectives bolted in that direction, with Gulliver instructing the man to stay there and show the others that would follow which way to go.

Murdoch was in the lead and saw the dock up ahead. Gulliver was only a few yards behind. As soon as he saw the dock he thought about the possibility that it was a trap. He called out to Murdoch to wait, but the man didn't even slow down. Gulliver tried to keep up, but started looking around for danger as well.

He saw her, floating face down, the blond hair in her bun and her blue dress filling and dropping as the waves softly rippled towards the shore. William's legs took him even faster now, despite the fact that he could not breathe. The wooden dock under his feet pounded rhythmically as he ran down it. "No! It can't be! … Julia NO!" his brain yelled. "Julia!" he called out, with desperation and panic in his voice. "Julia PLEASE!" he screamed out as he jumped into the water. As William came back up to the surface and moved to the body, two opposing thoughts flowed through his mind at the same time – Julia was dead, he was about to see her face; And the body didn't move as it should while the waves created by his impact with the water flowed under it. By the time Detective Gulliver stood at the end of the dock, they could both see that it was a fake body. It was a mannequin in a blue dress and a wig. Relief surged through William's body, the effects of the adrenalin wearing off, causing his legs and arms to feel as if they weighed hundreds of pounds. Detective Gulliver offered him a hand and he climbed back up on the dock.

As he put his Homburg back on his head, William said, "I think it's a trap." Both men turned to check their periphery and the shot rang out from the brush back on the shore. William's hat went flying – he was not hit, but it was much too close for comfort. Just as both men dropped down to the deck, Constables Clark and Brown rushed onto the scene. Having heard the shot they took cover and drew their guns. The Inspector and Constable Jackson were close behind. The assailant took flight – Brown and Clark could each see it was a woman. They took up pursuit. They caught her – Isabel Webster was in custody!

At her arrest, Isabel Webster had a rifle that had likely been used to fire the shot at Murdoch, as well as a small .12 caliber pistol in her purse. She was also carrying a bullet extractor – Murdoch needed to explain to everyone what it was. He gathered these items and many others together in his office as he prepared for the interrogation.

Serving as a teacher, he explained to his mentee, Detective Gulliver, what he planned to use each item for as he questioned Miss Webster. He placed the evidence in a very specific order in the file folder. Included were photographs of the victims, Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez, Mr. Lynch, and the coroner, Dr. Reynolds. Also there were photographs of the bullet wounds to the heads of Mr. Rodriguez and Mr. Lynch, the aconite-poisoned knife-blade that was in Mr. Lynch's body, the fingerprint that matched Miss Webster's on Lynch's button, Miss Ward (the woman who Webster had impersonated to escape from prison), the gun-firing mechanism used in an attempt to kill himself and Julia, the bomb sent in the package addressed to the Inspector, and a photo of the Inspector's bombed house, and photos of Connor and Jane. He would also use Miss Webster's file from the past, from over ten years ago when she admitted to killing Miss Dawes' fiancée.

Miss Webster addressed Detective Murdoch immediately as he entered the interview room, "So, detective, we meet again." Brackenreid, Gulliver, and Crabtree watched from the other side of the screen.

Murdoch took a seat as he responded, "Miss Webster."

She leaned forward and said, pretending to whisper her secret, "The longer you keep me locked up in here, the more likely your wife dies."

Murdoch held the eye contact, his demeanor not changing one iota. "Is that so Miss Webster?" he asked, giving nothing, leaving her room to tell him more.

"She is locked away somewhere tight and dark, with no water or food. Only I know where she is… She stands a chance if you let me go – now," she explained.

Murdoch interlaced his fingers in front of himself, over the file full of evidence and said, imitating her secret-telling body posture, "Miss Webster, you do not know where Dr. Ogden is." He waited, reading her reaction. "You see, we faked her abduction to draw you out – to trap you," he continued. In response to that, she wiggled and squirmed, her ace-in-the-hole rendered useless. "Now," Murdoch continued, "I would like you to tell me whether or not you killed Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez."

Isabel Webster admitted to killing Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez and Mr. Lynch. She admitted to placing the poisoned knife-blade in Mr. Lynch's body with the intention of killing Dr. Ogden. She explained that she believed that Dr. Ogden would be released from prison earlier than everyone thought and would end up being the coroner to work on Lynch. She denied setting the booby-trap surrounding Mrs. Rodriguez's body used in an attempt to kill Ogden and him as well, claiming someone else must have removed Mrs. Rodriguez's body from the cottage where she killed her and used it for the trap. (This denial disappointed Murdoch, for it was through this particular crime that he would have been able to link Miss Webster to Connor). She denied knowing anything about the abduction of his children or the bombing of the Inspector's house. She claimed she had no idea what the bomb in the photograph was, and certainly didn't send it. (These denials further kept her safe from giving away any connection with Connor).

When asked about motive, Miss Webster went into great detail. "I killed Carl Rodriguez out of pure hatred," she said calmly. But as she elaborated her tone changed. Her jaw clenched and her eyes spiraled down into darts of fury as she ranted, "He comes in with his good looks and his handsome face, no money, no real prospects, and convinces a weak, mentally ill, TOFF that she is meant to be with him. He had to die. Then you and your "doctor friend" show up and all of a sudden that imbecile Felicity claims that she killed her fiancée and, to top it off, you act like a pit bull with his teeth into something and can't see that she's crazy. You want to convict her!" Webster leaned back in her chair shaking her head in disbelief. She took a deep breath and continued, "Well, then I figured, that's alright – I'll get the money anyway, but then you and Dr. Ogden go and get Carl Rodriguez to admit that he was covering for her because, and this part was just unbelievable, because they were reincarnated lovers. I mean they really believed they used to be Jane Kleet and this painter Tristan. Insanity." Now she leaned forward again and took a firm hold of Murdoch's eye and said, barely keeping her seething anger under control, "But the real topper was you and your smartass wood slivers, unbelievable – some tiny little splinters of wood in my gloves and now I'm the murderer! Oh, I how hated you all." She dropped her eyes to look down at her hands on the table. They were rolled into fists. She forced herself to open them and then rested her chin in one of her hands. Eyes still down she started calmly, "But what really pushed me over the edge was reading about you and Ogden in the newspapers. Just like them – disgusting! Madly in love, meant to be together at all odds…" Once again she met his eyes revealing the intensity of her anger, "Even if Ogden's husband had to be killed in order for you two to accomplish it– just like them, I mean detective, you are a good-looking man with a handsome face and absolutely no prospects – a financial disaster, a police detective of all things! You go and get all of her money, just like Carl would have, and Ogden's so stupid she falls for it. She had to die because she's stupid – what a blind imbecile! Falling in love with you cost her everything, don't you see?"

Murdoch revealed no emotion and responded, "No. Enlighten me."

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, looking smug. Sarcastically she said, "So you think that just because Gillies trapped you in his little cage – his experiment, and you "passed the love test" – loved your sweet Julia enough to give your life to free her from the noose … You think that absolves you?! Typical man – so self-involved that you don't see that you ruined her life. She was married to a good man – OF HER STANDING! … And then, even worse, you go getting her pregnant. Her first husband never got her pregnant. In the end her love for you will kill her. If it's not at the hand of not some crazy like Gillies, then it will be a culmination of her own past abortion and your need to have a child – bringing to the light of day her one crime – her abortion… All so you could have a son," she spit out, shaking her head again with disapproval. "Yes, you had to die too, most of all!" she finished with a huff.

"Hence, the attempt to shoot me today with the ruse of my wife's dead body floating in the pond," Murdoch added.

Isabel Webster lifted her face. Her eyes were cold as she goaded, "Only missed by half an inch."

Murdoch remembered his hat, now rendered useless due to the two bullet holes in its top, and frowned. He loved that hat.

He showed her a picture of Jane. She did not seem to recognize her. She took the woman's photo in her hands to look at it more closely and slyly said, "Well now detective, it looks like this one is giving Dr. Ogden a run for her money in your case. You seem to be quite attracted to her, hey detective? Oh … Sorry, she is going to hang now isn't she … your wife, I mean, you must be heart-broken… You've lost your wife … and your kiddies too. Perhaps you can make a go of it with this beauty once your beloved "Julia" is out of the picture."

Murdoch did not react to her attempts to throw him off. He placed a picture of Connor down in front of her, watching her reaction very, very closely. He saw it – fear. He'd seen it before when showing people this man's photo or giving them his description.

She calmly shook her head, "Never seen him, I'm sorry detective," she said. She paused, sighed, and then added, "But you know, I was thinking that if someone wanted you and Ogden dead, rather than kidnap your children and then use them as bait to catch their parents, it would be easier to kill the children – and then simply kill their parents at the funeral." She looked up, firmly holding his eye, daring him to flinch – to show his fear. She did not get what she was looking for. "Oh well, I figure you haven't found their bodies yet then," she goaded.

Murdoch ended the interrogation, figuring she was not going to budge on giving up information about Connor. He had her locked up in the cells.

Once again, Detective Gulliver was impressed with the interrogation. It seemed that all the preparation Murdoch went through was unnecessary, Miss Webster admitted to all of the killings and Murdoch didn't have to actually point out any of the facts. She just gave it up, but of course, only after Murdoch lied to her about him having set the trap for her. It was ingenious, and she folded immediately. Gulliver asked Murdoch, "What I don't understand, detective, is how you knew it was safe to lie. I mean, how did you know the she did not have Dr. Ogden locked away somewhere, not yet dead, but in danger of dying if Miss Webster were not released?"

Murdoch's attention seemed to be focused elsewhere; he had placed the bag with Miss Webster's .12 caliber gun in it down in front of him on his desk. Gulliver was surprised when he answered, his eyes still down on the gun, "Her pattern consisted of using the bodies of people she had killed in her subsequent traps, even though she denies doing so in the case of using Mrs. Rodriguez's body in the trap for Dr. Ogden and I…"He looked up to show a frown and added, "Which is very unfortunate because it would have undeniably tied her to Connor." William turned the bag with the gun in it over on his desk to examine the other side. He looked troubled but he continued, "If she had killed Julia, she would have placed her body in the pond, not a fake one… Besides, it was unlikely that all of a sudden she would change her routine to start hiding her victims away, keeping them alive before eventually killing them."

"Yes, I see," Gulliver said. "What is bothering you about the gun?" he asked.

Murdoch leaned back in his chair, giving himself some distance from the object of his focus. He sighed. "It seems somehow familiar to me," he offered, "I'm trying to figure out why."

"You told me that the reason we were looking through the records of people committing crimes with .12 caliber guns was because Miss Webster was removing the bullets from her victims – as if she knew we would have records to match them to this weapon… Perhaps you have seen it before, no?" Gulliver asked.

Murdoch rubbed his forehead. Gulliver didn't know him well enough to know it was a habit that betrayed his higher levels of stress. "Yes, of course, but it seems more distant somehow." He paused in thought. "You know, there is no reason a fingermark would disintegrate over time. Yes, it would probably get smudged, or if the gun were ever wiped clean … But it is possible that the fingermarks of someone who used the weapon, decades ago even, could still be there. Let's have it dusted for fingermarks," Murdoch said, finally catching Gulliver's eye and twisting a corner of his mouth up to show his doubt.

"I would like to give it a try, if you think I'm ready, sir?" Gulliver suggested. Murdoch gave him the task.

I'm going to need to re-question Miss Webster. I must be more distracted than I thought. I forgot to ask her about why she removed the bullets from Mr. Rodriguez's and Mr. Lynch's bodies. And even why she killed Lynch. Murdoch dropped his eyes to the tiny gun in the bag on his desk again.

While Murdoch looked down studying the small gun, Gulliver asked him to think out loud so he could learn from his thought process.

William tried, knowing it would slow him down, hoping the young man knew how generous the gesture was considering Julia was out there somewhere and needed to be saved as soon as possible. He started, "The gun connects Webster to Connor, I'm sure of it – but it's a woman's gun?" he wrinkled a corner of his mouth indicating his confusion with that point. He continued, his eyes drifting to the rifle on the worktable, "And the rifle she used to shoot at me – we need to check its bullet striations and see if we can find a match in our files for those arrested with rifles – I wager that will get to Connor too. There may be a middle man who has sold guns to both of them, or it may be more direct, like Connor actually gave the .12 caliber gun and the rifle to Isabel, but there's a connection. Before I question Webster again, we'll need to check the rifle." Murdoch lifted up the list of six names of people previously arrested with .12 caliber guns in their possession and said, "We should also check to see if the three .12 caliber guns we should still have down in evidence in the armory according to this list are still actually there.

Murdoch instructed Gulliver to have Crabtree show him how to get a bullet fired from the rifle, and once he had a bullet to start looking for striation pattern matches. He wanted them to do the same for the .12 caliber gun. Until Crabtree returned, he could work on getting the fingermarks from Webster's .12 caliber gun and the rifle.

Dr. Tash showed up voluntarily for questioning. The Inspector took him into the interview room and conducted the interview. Murdoch and Gulliver watched from outside. Dr. Tash argued that there was really no need to confiscate all of his files. He was willing to cooperate fully. He explained that Dr. Ogden had informed him herself that she had had a previous abortion many years ago, and that it had been done poorly. As a result there was irreparable scarring of her cervix, and most likely of her lower uterus as well. This scarring would limit the ability of the cervix to stretch sufficiently to allow the birth of a full term infant. With the invention of the transverse Cesarean section, she would likely be able to survive the delivery of her child. She and Detective Murdoch had opted, after much tumultuous discussion, to have Dr. Ogden try to carry the child to full term and then deliver via surgery.

The Inspector looked very disappointed as he finished the interview and sent the doctor home. He would not take the other patient's files; it was not necessary. Dr. Tash had claimed that it was true that Ogden had had an abortion. It was done now. Before Tash left he and Murdoch went into Murdoch's office. They both reasoned that such an action would not be suspect as the doctor was a friend of the couple's and he had just provided damning evidence against Murdoch's wife. Further, Dr. Ogden was still missing, and Dr. Tash could be offering her husband friendly support during such a difficult time. In reality, they discussed William's plan to lie about the circumstances surrounding the abortion in an effort to stop charges from being brought against Julia.

Isaac informed William that an old anatomy professor of Julia's, Dr. Bainbridge, had died and was never married and had no children. William planned to tell Julia to say that Bainbridge had drugged her and performed the abortion himself, botching it badly.

Once the important planning was out of the way, Isaac asked how William was holding up with Julia missing, and the children too. William exhaled deeply, the action immediately showing his stress. "I try to stay focused on solving the case – it is the best way I have to try to find them, save them," he explained.

Isaac offered again to help in any way he could and William thanked him for what he had already done. Once Dr. Tash got back to his office, there were some reporters there. Isaac was amazed at how quickly they had found out about his responses to the constabulary – they knew he had confirmed the accuracy of his stolen files straightaway. He was not expecting them to ask if Detective Murdoch had been aware of his wife's abortion at the time of her pregnancy with their son. However, he knew that the question was posed to open the door for charging the detective with knowingly concealing knowledge of the commission of a crime. He was quoted as saying, "I have no knowledge that Detective Murdoch was aware of Dr. Ogden's abortion. He knew of the complications she would face giving birth. He was very much involved in the decision to attempt to carry the pregnancy to term and deliver the child through transverse Cesarean section. As you know, it was Detective Murdoch himself, who in the end who actually performed the procedure … as a result of a snow storm. But the detective never asked why his wife had developed the complications." He placed a phone call to William later to prepare him for the story in the morning.

Higgins proudly returned with Ed Obannon and placed him in the interview room. Murdoch questioned him. Predictably, he claimed that neither himself nor Hoyt still had the gun, claiming it had been stolen a few years back. When asked where he was working he replied, "Here and there." He offered up two locations. Murdoch had constables call to check and found that he and his brother worked at both locations, but very rarely. He knew there was a good chance that they really worked for Connor. He had Ed Obannon locked in the cells and assigned a daytime and a nighttime constable to watch the Obannon home and follow Hoyt to try to find out where he worked.

Sitting at his desk, William was working on finding one of the people whose .12 caliber gun should have been in evidence but was not – a Miss Clemmens who had been convicted for trying to kill her mother-in-law. He heard the pigeons making a ruckus at his window again. "It's late afternoon," he thought. He stood up and watched as they fluttered around. None of them had a message. He found himself wishing he had something to feed them, barely noticing that he himself hadn't eaten anything since his breakfast this morning with Eloise. Unavoidably, for he had stopped thinking about the case, he thought of Julia. She had been missing nearly 24 hours now. He knew that the more time that went by, the lower were her chances of being found alive. Spotting the mark on the wall from where he had punched it this morning, he subconsciously clenched his fingers into a fist, feeling the pain, and imagined Connor roughly pulling Julia's head back by her hair and laying a knife-blade across her throat.

Pulling him out of the disturbing fantasy, Constable Crabtree knocked on Murdoch's doorframe. Murdoch turned and with a slight smile said, "What have you George?"

"Well sir, I did spot a man pulling up to the Belle Ewart ice company in a grey and red buckboard. Unfortunately, another man pointed me out to him and he ran … I'm so sorry sir, he got away from me," George reported.

William took a seat at his desk and regretfully replied, "I'm sure you did your best George."

George sighed. William noticed he had something in his hand. George lifted it up – it was Julia's other shoe. It had been squashed, most likely by the loading of ice blocks on top of it. William thought, "He must not have known the shoe was there when he loaded the ice on top of it." They had found Julia's abductor. They hadn't caught him yet. They didn't know who he was. They didn't know if he had already killed Julia or not. They didn't know if he acted alone or with someone else – that thought prompting William to flinch slightly as he thought of Connor. Murdoch said, "Let's chase every clue we have here George. Bring in the man who tipped him off that you were there. And pull fingermarks off of the shoe, but I don't think we'll find our abductor's marks – I don't think he knew the shoe was in his buckboard… Did you recognize him George?"

George tilted his head, looked away as he ran the image of the man through his head. "I would have to say no sir, but there was something vaguely familiar about him. A thought with the face, that made me think he was disturbed, but more like remembering that I had thought that about the man previously than that I thought it for the first time when I saw him at the ice company. It's too weak though… I can't get my teeth into it," he explained. George volunteered to check the shoe for fingermarks.

William stared again at the file and tried to re-focus on Miss Clemmens' current whereabouts to ascertain if she had legally recollected her .12 caliber gun. A pigeon flapped against the window again, prompting him to remember spooking at the same sound, just yesterday, while eating lunch with Julia. He remembered the delicious feel of her walking up behind him as he sat at the worktable, rubbing his stomach, driving him into lustful distraction as she slid her hands up to stroke his chest muscles. Then he saw in his mind's eye, Julia holding the pigeon and raising her eyebrow at him as she teased him about his expectation that she could keep the bird from defecating in his office. "What were we talking about right before the pigeon startled me?" he asked himself. He heard it clear as day, as if she were sitting right next to him, Julia's voice from the dream he had had this morning – "Look in paper William." His mind raced, "There had been writing on one of the papers from when she was in prison!" He quickly reached for the pile of papers and notes that still remained at the corner of his desk.

He found the front page article that Julia had made marks on. The headline read, "Citizen Ogden, Canadian Heroine Gets 36 Days for Contraception Education." The article had two photos. The largest photo was of him and George entering the courthouse on the day of Julia's sentencing, but there were also some anti-contraception protesters in the picture. Julia had circled the face of one of those protesters. William recognized the man as the one who had yelled that Julia should have been hung the first time. Next to the circled face, Julia had written 1899. William was certain that this was the man whose wife had been protesting with Julia, and who had threatened his wife with a beating and had even tried to hit his wife, only to have Julia intervene and shove him into the ground, causing him to knock over a vegetable cart. He would likely have held a grudge. He may very well be the man with the grey and red buckboard who abducted Julia.

Excitedly William called out, "George!" as he stood and rushed into the bullpen. "George, does this man look familiar to you?" William asked placing the newspaper down on George's desk.

"Sir!" George exclaimed, "That's the man at the ice factory! That's him!

William took a deep breath. They needed to find the man's name. He knew there was something … William tilted his head to the side and his eyes took on that odd focus that showed he was imagining things in his head. In his mind's eye he saw himself and Julia back when they lived at the Windsor House Hotel, sitting on the couch and sharing readings from their journals. Julia had disclosed that Darcy had started cutting any articles about William out of their morning newspaper due to his jealousy – and control issues. William remembered that there had been some old newspaper stories folded up in Julia's journal from the time. If one of them was about this story with the man being pushed by Julia, and he thought it likely as he remembered that that had been a front page story at the time, then he could get the man's name. William warned, "I have to go get something from home!" as he rushed to grab his hat – then remembered the bullet holes in it and left it, and then rushed out the door.

He quickly entered the house, calling out to Eloise to let her know that it was him. Quickly up the stairs, and then he rushed to open the various drawers of Julia's vanity. "There!" he thought as he spotted her flower-covered journal. Hurrying, he found the newspaper article folded up inside. He opened it to see the headline on the front page, "Doctor Publicly Promotes Illegal Contraception Clinic," "This is it!" he thought as he started to skim the text looking for a name. "Mr. Elmer Wilson! … Got him!" William said. William called stationhouse #4 and asked for George. He gave George the man's name and told him to find him and arrest him as soon as possible – to take Gulliver to help.

Not long afterward, William was questioning the man in the interview room. "I didn't kill her," Wilson insisted. You ain't gonna get me on murder … no siree," he repeated. Wilson leaned forward to look Murdoch in the eye and said, "Nope. Your wife – her fate is in God's hands now. Maybe she'll live, maybe she won't, but it weren't me that killed her if she don't – that would be God's choice."

"Where is Dr. Ogden, Mr. Wilson?" Murdoch requested again, his tone less patient. It was obvious that Mr. Wilson was not going to divulge where he had left Julia, but William was relieved to know that he hadn't killed her. There was a good chance she was still alive. Detective Gulliver and Constable Crabtree watched from outside the interview room. The Inspector came back with his black glove. He entered and dismissed Murdoch. Murdoch tried to protest, he truly was disgusted by the Inspector's sometimes brutal methods of questioning, but he yielded easily – perhaps due to his desperation for the information in this case. He wasn't going to stay and watch though.

"George," he asked, "please look into any properties Mr. Wilson may own – businesses, homes?" The wrinkle at the corner of his mouth betrayed his lack of hope in getting much from the search – Mr. Wilson did not seem like a very wealthy man; he likely owned nothing.

George looked at Gulliver and with a tip of his head to the side, invited him to help. "Right away sir," he said to Murdoch. "Oh and sir," he remembered, "As we have Mr. Wilson's confession to abducting the good doctor it wouldn't have mattered anyway, but there was another print on Dr. Ogden's shoe …"

"Oh?" Murdoch asked.

George's face took on the expression of an apology and he said, "Yours."

Murdoch smiled and said, "Of course, I must have touched her shoe at one time or another." In his mind he saw the memory of kneeling down in front of Julia. She was sitting on their couch in their house – about four month's pregnant with their second child – a child that she would subsequently miscarry. He had taken off her shoes – this pair, and massaged her feet. The exquisite memory of the sounds of her moans of pleasure and appreciation still managed to warm his heart.

George put down the picture of Murdoch's fingermark, picked up the phone and called the post office to start trying to find any other addresses for Mr. Wilson. Detective Gulliver went back to trying to find matches for the fingermark he had found that was not Miss Webster's on the .12 caliber gun. He had also found multiple fingermarks on the rifle that were not Miss Webster's. The work was really piling up.

The Inspector's methods rendered no pertinent information from Mr. Wilson, except for the fact that wherever Julia was, she was bound and locked in a steamer trunk. William thought to himself that Julia had a better chance of getting out of a trunk than some of the other places he had envisioned her being stowed away, one of the scariest being a reminder of Gillies – a grave. Now that the interview room was empty, he had a constable bring Miss Webster back up from the cells for questioning. Imagining the two cells, one with Miss Webster and the other with Mr. Wilson, and Mr. Obannon, Murdoch felt some relief that he had been able have Miss Ward released earlier. It would have been challenging for her to have to be jailed with the woman she had been forced to replace and serve a life sentence for.

William had prepared for the second interrogation of Miss Webster. On the top of the file he had photos of the .12 caliber gun, the rifle, and Mr. Lynch, as well as photos of the bullet wounds on the backs of the heads of Mr. Rodriguez and Mr. Lynch. Miss Webster claimed she purchased both the gun and the rifle from the same man. He frequented a bar called the "Black Pheasant Tavern." She only went to the bar this once to purchase the weapons. A man on the street had told her where to find him and when to go. She did not know who the man on the street was, only that he actually approached her because she looked out of place – it was down at the docks, and he thought she might be in the market for something illegal. She killed Lynch simply to have a body to use to place the aconite-poison trap in for Ogden. Supposedly he was out walking late at night – also down on the docks.

Suddenly William thought to check the soles of her shoes for the black ink. He asked her to remove her shoes and he inspected them – no black ink. He sat back down and prepared to ask her his most important question. He placed the bullet extractor on the table and watched her reaction. Worry crossed her face to quickly be quelled. "This was found in your purse. Can you explain what it is please," he instructed.

She replied, "I don't really know. I found it at the Rodriguez cabin. The box suggested it might be a fancy necklace, so I took it, only to find out that it was not later."

Murdoch leaned towards her, his hands clasped in front of him, once again over the file folder, and said, "That's very interesting Miss Webster." Next he opened the file folder and placed the two photos of her victim's bullet wounds to the back of their heads. Miss Webster exhaled sharply. Murdoch knew she was feeling stressed. "Do you know what was incredibly unique and distinct about these two wounds?" Murdoch asked.

She did not reply, just held his eye and sarcastically said, mimicking his earlier statement, "No. Enlighten me."

The corners of Murdoch's mouth curled upward as he reacted to his disappointment in her resistance to admit she was cornered. He took a deep breath and asked, indicating he knew she was lying, "Miss Webster, why did you remove the bullets from these two wounds?"

She denied removing the bullets, saying, with a sly, smug tone, "I didn't. Someone else must have done so."

Exasperated, Murdoch stood up, left the room, and had Miss Webster brought back down to the cells to keep Mr. Wilson, and now also Mr. Obannon, company.

Inspector Davis arrived and went into the Inspector's office. After a brief, and, as observed by Crabtree and Gulliver, heated discussion, Murdoch was called into the Inspector's office. The blinds were pulled down.

"That's not good," Crabtree said to Gulliver. The two men seemed to be becoming friends. Crabtree enjoyed working with someone as enthusiastic as himself, and bright too. Detective Gulliver admired George's sense of humor and his wide insight into all of the people around him. They shared a look and got back to work.

Inside the Inspector's office, Murdoch was informed that, should Dr. Ogden show up, she was to be arrested and charged with murder. Chief Inspector Davis then said, "I need to know whether you knew about your wife's abortion detective. We can't have a Constabulary detective who knowingly looked the other way when discovering a murder had been committed – even if it had been committed by his wife."

Murdoch took a deep breath; the pressure was definitely on. "Sir, first off I would like to say that I believe you must consider all of the circumstances when deciding whether or not to charge someone with such a crime – especially in such a controversial situation as abortion…"

Davis stood up defiantly and fumed, "I don't see any controversy! Abortion is murder; there is no doubt." Murdoch also stood, refusing to be at a disadvantage.

Then Brackenreid stood as well. "Gentlemen, gentlemen … Shall we agree that, at least in this case, it is important to gather all of the facts before we go off charging Dr. Ogden with murder."

Davis claimed that they had all of the facts they needed. According to Dr. Tash, Dr. Ogden had admitted that she had had an abortion.

Arguing that there were other facts to consider, William explained that he had eventually come to learn that Julia had been forced by the father of the child to have the abortion. He contended that she could not be held responsible for something that was forced upon her. Davis seemed swayed by the argument, but stated that he wanted to hear it from Dr. Ogden herself, during questioning – after she'd been arrested. Unfortunately, William's knowledge of the circumstances surrounding her abortion suggested that he had known she had had an abortion and not turned her in, and that as a result, he was in danger of being dismissed from his position.

The sun was low in the sky when the carriage pulled up to the stationhouse. Julia sat next to a man in the carriage. She looked to be in extreme disarray. Her hair was a tangled mess, with nearly as much hair out of her bun as was in it. She was missing one earring, and her face and her dress were covered in a brown-grey film of dried mud. Her dress was torn at one shoulder and on the skirt. She was barefoot, with significant holes and runs in her saggy, muddy stockings. She thanked the man profusely for his help. He told her he was glad to help, and he wished her luck in finding her children. He didn't say it, but he also wished her luck in fighting the charges against her for having an abortion. He knew it was likely she had not seen today's papers – having shown up at his house in such a state barely an hour ago, and asking for assistance.

Julia disembarked and headed for the door. She heard her breath as she rushed forward. It was hurried. Her anticipation was great. In her mind she saw what would happen. She would charge in the door. William would see her – run to her – take her in his strong, loving arms – hold her so tight she would know she was safe – she would know she was home.

The front door opened and Julia rounded the corner, continuing her motion as she crossed the bullpen headed for William's office. Crabtree nearly fell off of his chair as he saw her dart by. "Dr. Ogden!?" he called out as he rushed to his feet.

Julia stood in the doorway of William's office, seeing it was empty she turned and caught George's eye. George looked towards the Inspector's office, prompting Julia's eyes to fly in that direction. Gulliver was already at the Inspector's door. It opened and, as William turned to see who was there, his eyes blew past Gulliver and connected with those of his wife. He didn't remember running to her – he was already there. She was in his arms!

Slowly he became aware that he heard her breath in his ear, felt the dampness of her cheek in his neck as tears ran down it. Surrounding them and within them, the electric, captivating hum was so loud it drowned out the rest of the world. He felt himself take a deep breath, cherishing the smell of her as it sank deeper and deeper into him. "Julia," he whispered, the sound of his own voice pulling him a little bit closer to the outside world.

She pulled back, ever so slightly, and her hands slid up from his waist to his chest. Her voice still next to his ear she said, "Oh William… I was locked in a trunk… Oh my God, if you hadn't given me that knife …"

"I know, I know," he said, "We have the man in custody." He remembered now, they were in the stationhouse. As he continued, "Isabel Webster too," he felt his heart begin to race; he remembered that Chief Inspector Davis was there too, probably standing with all the others, watching them. He would want to arrest her. "I have to tell her! I have to tell her now!" chanted in his brain. Keeping his voice low, his mouth hovered at her ear, he said, "Julia, you have to lie. You have to say that Professor …"

Chief Inspector Davis grew frustrated as his commands had gone ignored. He had told Murdoch to stand back to no avail. He had turned to look for support from Brackenreid, and he had gotten none. Now he raised his voice as he ordered Dr. Ogden's arrest for the second time, "Detective Murdoch! Release her at once. She is to be arrested – charged with murder."

William felt Julia pull away. She reached up to wipe a tear from her face and asked, "What? William, what's going on?"

He didn't think his heart could beat any faster, didn't think the ringing of fear in his head could get any louder, but it did. "Julia, you have to listen to me," he whispered. He had her attention, but he also had everyone else's. He couldn't think of a way to tell her what he so desperately needed her to know.

Feeling more powerful now that Murdoch had stepped back from hugging his wife, Davis barked his command once more, "Arrest her – NOW Murdoch … Or I'll arrest her myself and bring her to stationhouse # 5 for questioning."

William turned, a look of absolute desperation on his face, to find the Inspector's eyes.

"Arrest me for what?" Julia asked him, fear now apparent in her voice, in her eyes.

The Inspector took a deep breath and said, "Do it Murdoch." The Inspector knew that if Murdoch were the arresting officer it would look better for him than if Chief Inspector Davis had to do it, or even the Inspector himself. "Murdoch," he said softly, compassionately, "It's for the best if you do it."

William's brain was still racing. "I could arrest her and then run her into the interview room – try to tell her what to say before they get there to listen in," he thought. He knew he had to do something fast. He decided to arrest her and while doing so, try to think of how to get her alone. "Dr. Julia Ogden …" he started…

Julia seemed to shrink. Her eyes pleaded with him, her head shaking no. "William?" she said slowly, sounding betrayed, in shock.

William's voice choked up as he continued, "You are under arrest for the murder of your unborn child." William ran through the rest of the routine arrest statement, watching as Julia nearly fell apart. Before he had finished, her knees had buckled for a moment and he had had to catch her to keep her from falling.

After he completed the statement, the words escaped from his mouth, before he had even had time to evaluate the plan – he said, his eyes only on his wife as he did so, "She needs a chance to clean-up before questioning. We have a change of clothes in my office." He took her under his protective arm and hurriedly walked her into his office, closing the door and then quickly pulling the blinds.

He took a firm hold of her upper arms, lifting her slightly. His brown eyes were black with adrenalin. The air was charged, a dangerous smell, almost like ozone, filled their nostrils. William explained rapidly, "Dr. Tash's office was broken into and they got your file. The papers reported your abortion, and Tash has made a statement claiming that you had an abortion."

Julia's face showed the multitude of layers of fear and betrayal she was feeling, but William did not pause or offer her comfort. He rushed forward, the feeling of the cyclonic wind swirling all around them.

"You need to say that Professor Bainbridge was the father of the child. That he drugged you, and performed an abortion on you against your will," he demandingly whispered.

She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe William would make such a demand. "I will do no such thing," Julia exclaimed as she pushed against his chest and wiggled to free herself from his grip.

He held on, tightening both his grasp on her as well as the urgency in his eyes. "Isaac checked. Bainbridge is dead – has no wife or children. He will not be harmed," William insisted.

"Let me go!" she commanded, as she struggled hard to get free. William did so. "Professor Bainbridge was a good man. He would never have done such a thing," she stormed. "I cannot besmirch his good name like that William!" she proclaimed.

Fear took William's face and his heart. He had not expected her to contest him. Impending doom was all around. He needed her to fight. "Julia," he begged, "Please… You will face the noose."

She tried to find rational thought. "It is unreasonable that I would be hung for having an abortion!" she said, as tears filled her eyes and her voice began to squeak. "It is my body. I have a right to have control over my body!" she vehemently asserted.

William's eyes jumped to the door; he knew they did not have much time. "Julia, Isaac and I figured it out. It's the only way. You have to say that is what happened…I already told Davis you were forced to have the abortion by the father," he said.

"You did what!" she whispered the scream out. Her anger surprised him. Her arms flailed around irately. "You had no right to do that William. This is my story – MY story to tell, not yours. And if I want to tell the truth, then I should have been able to do so. You took that from me. You had no right!" she seethed. She placed her hands on her hips and her eyes piercingly focused on him, measuring him, she set out on her attack, "You and Isaac – typical male attitudes. You figure, you, the big man, the great William Murdoch, will come to my rescue. Sometimes you are so self-centered … grandiose, and selfish William."

"But Julia, you could hang or serve a life sentence in prison if you tell the truth…"

She found the bag with her clean dress in it and slammed it up on the worktable. "If I am willing to die or not for my cause – that should be MY choice, William – MINE!" she charged, still managing to whisper. "I have no choice now. You forced me into a corner. And I will have to tell your stupid lie. You bastar…" she stopped herself before she said it, shaking her head at how unfathomable this all was.

William's face seemed to be drained of blood as fear for her life, and her unexpected, and seemingly insurmountable anger, whirled together to create a dizzying fright. And yet, he felt a surge of hope in the midst of the storm. He had heard her say it – She would tell the lie. She would live. Relief seeped upward in his soul, somehow defying gravity.

"I am furious with you William," she continued. She turned her back to him, "Undo my corset," she ordered. He helped her change in silence. For each moment that passed, Julia's fury and sense of injustice burned hotter, while William's horror and despair lifted away.

When they emerged from his office, Julia's hair was tightly wrapped in a bun, she had no earrings, her dress was clean and fresh, and she had new stockings on her, still bare, feet. She was no longer crying. She looked … strong. "So … Who is going to question me?" she said, sounding more like a dare than a question, and then she marched herself to the interview room before anyone could answer.

The men all looked at each other. Eventually most eyes fell on Murdoch, not because they expected him to question his own wife about her abortion, but rather because they were flabbergasted by Julia's change. William looked at Davis and opened his arm, gesturing him towards the interview room, "Chief Inspector," he said.

Brackenreid ordered everyone back to work. They scurried quickly, with Murdoch reminding them that there was still a dangerous man out there, with world-grade illegal weapons at his disposal to turn on anyone of his choosing. The Inspector and Murdoch went to observe The Chief Inspector's interrogation of Dr. Ogden.

They sat on opposite sides of the table, Julia fighting back memories of sitting in the same places with Chief Inspector Giles after Darcy had been killed. She knew she had to push down the anger, and find regret in order to be convincible. It was surprisingly easy to do, once she remembered the lie she was to tell – falsely blaming an innocent and wonderful mentor in her life for committing such a crime. She did feel regret. By the time she was telling Chief Inspector Davis the tale, her tears were legitimate – although the cause of the tears was different from what she led him to believe, which was that she regretted having the child be killed… And she regretted the decision to have sexual intercourse with the man.

As they watched, William marveled at her abilities, in this case her acting abilities. His memory drifted to when they faked Anna Fulford's death – the day of the baseball game. He had to be believable as a bereaved lover. He had found it so natural to play the role... perhaps because he had lost so many women in his lifetime, his mother, his sister Susana, then Julia, and at the time, Anna.

Back at their desks, Gulliver and George talked while they worked on matching fingermarks. George said, "I sure do hope Dr. Ogden can compel the Chief Inspector not to charge her." He shook his head with a combination of disbelief and grief. "They have truly been through so much – it sometimes reminds me of the book of Job," he added.

Gulliver lifted his eyes to get George's attention and asked, "What was all that about an experiment with a cage and a "love test" that Murdoch passed? And what did it have to do with Dr. Ogden's husband's death?"

George told him the story of the insane James Gillies and his diabolical plan to frame Dr. Ogden for her husband's death, the motive for which was to be her love for Detective Murdoch, and her desire to be divorced so she could marry him instead. And then to trap Murdoch and force him to decide whether or not to release a poison gas that would kill him, but at the same time would provide a film, telling Gillies' story of how and why he framed Dr. Ogden, that would show her innocence and save her from the noose. With an air of admiration and pride George said, "Of course, Detective Murdoch chose to die to save his love, and released the gas. He is so smart though. He outsmarted Gillies. He had sent us a message, and we were able to pull him out before he succumbed to the gas, and we got the film, and arrested Gillies too. I had to shoot him in the shoulder though – he pulled a gun on me and the Inspector."

Gulliver leaned forward, his expression excited like a child about to get some candy, and whispered, "I would love to see that film. Do you think it is still on file here as evidence?"

George considered the possibility. "Probably," he replied, although his face showed his uncertainty. "You could look for it. It would be filed under Gillies," he instructed.

Still watching intently outside of the interview room, William's heart soared upon hearing Davis tell Julia that, provided she made a statement to the press explaining the circumstances around her abortion, she was free to go. It took all the self-control he had not to jump up and down, and burst into the interview room, and take her up in a hug of joy.

As they exited the interview room, she would not even look at her husband. She went with the Inspector directly into his office to call the press. William's face showed a pang of pain, but he quickly covered it up and got back to focusing on solving the rest of the case.

As he was adding the new information to the blackboard, Jackson knocked on his doorframe and informed Murdoch that Mr. Clegg had been found. He was at York General Hospital. He had a phone number of a Dr. Spira that the detective was to call. Dr. Spira explained that Mr. Clegg would likely recover, but his jaw was wired shut and he was very weak. He had done very little talking. The doctor informed Murdoch that he had spoken with Julia around 3:30 yesterday afternoon. He had figured she had told him about Clegg's whereabouts. William realized that Julia was probably rushing over to tell him the news about Clegg when Mr. Wilson abducted her. He would go see Clegg himself. He wondered if there was a way to let Mr. Meyers know. He didn't want to leave until he got Julia settled.

Six or seven reporters surrounded Julia as she told them her story. There were flashbulbs going off and it seemed that everyone was paying attention to the show. William leaned against his doorframe, regretting the spectacle that Julia had been forced to be caught up in. It stirred, bubbled up – his anger. Someone did this. Someone knew about her abortion – broke in and took Tash's file, and then got the story out to the press. William's jaw clenched as he recognized the fact that he may never know who.

Julia bid the reporters goodnight and thanked them for coming. She stood alone in front of the tall front desk where, only yesterday, William and Gulliver had defused the bomb, as all the men turned back to their business. As he approached her, their eyes met. She took a deep breath and dropped her chin, still adamantly holding his gaze as she exhaled the air, sending one of her curls to flap on her wind. She seemed to be preparing herself for battle. He didn't like the feeling. He stopped closer to her than she would have liked, but she refused to step back. With his voice low, privacy obviously his goal, he said, "I'm sure you are tired; I still have to work tonight … Um, are you going to stay here with me?"

"No. I'll go home. But since you will be staying here, I won't have to leave the bedding out for you to sleep on the couch," she replied, knowing it would dig into him.

William took a deep breath and unconsciously reached up to rub his forehead. "Well, Connor is still out there … I will send an extra constable with you to the house," he replied. He was about to say goodnight when she walked away. She got her bag full of her dirty clothes and waited for the constable to take her home.

William wrinkled up a corner of his face, recognizing the pain he felt. Then he took a deep breath and went on. He would go see Clegg. He would learn very little about the case, but the degree of the beating suggested Clegg had encountered Connor in person; all evidence implied the man was a brute.

At the Murdoch home, one constable stood guard at the backdoor, while the other watched the front of the house from just inside the front gate. Before she went inside, Julia found herself paused on the porch staring at the porch-bench. Memories jolted through her, seeming somehow bigger than life. She saw William siting way at the edge of the bench, heard him say, "I am lost … have gotten somehow lost, in my emotions right now…" She felt the pull at her heart, remembering the strong emotions they had shared only two nights ago that now seemed like years. Next, an older memory drew her mind's eye. She was pregnant for the second time; William Jr. was almost three. They had disagreed about whether she should try to go through with the pregnancy or not, William's fear of losing her driving his panicked state of unrest. She had found him sitting there, on the bench in his pajamas on a quiet February night, with a decanter of whiskey, drinking at two in the morning. They argued. As Julia stood there now, she heard their words as clear as a bell. William had downed another glass of whiskey and said, "So, even knowing how I feel, you still want to try to have the baby?" She had answered, "Yes. I do… William, this is my body. It is me who has to go through the pregnancy and the surgery." Although her words had been true, they had rendered him completely powerless, powerless over his own fate as her lover, as a father, both, of the son they already had, and of the child that might come. She had seen that at the time. It almost came to light, the connection between that memory and what was happening between them now, but she pushed the thought away, still wanting to hold on to her anger. She went inside.

Now in the foyer, Julia imagined seeing her children run to her. Pure love filled her with the thoughts. As she headed for the stairs, she remembered the feeling of having William Jr. sobbing in her arms the day she returned from prison. Her son had suffered terribly with her absence – everyone had. Then, in their bedroom, her mind's eye replayed some of the morning scenes of playful roughhousing that the family shared, pillow thefts and fights, screeches of delight, and lovely, lovely laughter.

In the carriage ride to the hospital, William entertained his feelings. He was nearly giddy with joy. "She's back. Julia is in the clear now. Safe. Out of the woods … Julia's home," he thought. His heart was sunny with hope. He felt he saw a way to the end of all of this. The clues were piling up. They would likely soon find Connor and be able to disarm the final threat. Intermittently, he replayed her angry words. Try as he might, though, regret for having done what he had done would not take hold.

In the shower she found herself drenched in memories again. Her eyes soaked in the view of the tiled-wall as she remembered William behind her, pressing deeply into her with abandon, driving her harder and harder into the wall. The memory twisted and tightened her insides in an ever so delightful and familiar way. Then she remembered him comforting her in the prison after she had been attacked, backing her into the wall. She still remembered the sound, the feel, of the bump as her back hit the wall. They had gotten quite aroused. Oh, how much they wanted to be together and couldn't. She heard William's voice in her ear, the steam from the shower reminding her of its damp warmth, as he had said, "I'm trying," in response to her breathless reminder that they needed to remember where they were. She remembered the joy of their shared laughter. Her anger seemed to drain away, to be replaced by compassion. Julia sighed. She realized that she felt relief. "Thank God," she thought as the awareness that she had so very narrowly escaped a terrible fate, for herself and for her family. A twinge of guilt flipped in her stomach. "He saved me again," she thought. The decision was quick. She wanted to go to him.

Julia called her children at Judith's house. They were worried. They hadn't heard from her for days. She was proud of them. They were being well-behaved and caring with each other, despite the highly stressful situation they were thrown into. She encouraged them that their Daddy was getting close to finding the men they needed to arrest, and to keep being good. She didn't think it would be too much longer until they could all be together again.

She packed a peanut butter-and-jelly picnic basket, and dressed herself in William's favorite dress, the slightly tight one with the spherical pearl buttons and the lower-cut bosom. The extra constable brought her back to the stationhouse. When she got there, William was out. She spoke with Detective Gulliver and George for a while. Detective Gulliver had Gillies' film on his desk. The three of them made a plan to watch it together over at the morgue tomorrow. Then Julia went to wait for William in his office.

She thought it was odd that William had left his hat. On further investigation, she figured out why. There were two bullet holes in it. "Oh my God, he was almost shot," she thought as she stuck her finger through one of the holes. She took a seat at his desk. Her eyes drifted to the pile of papers she had left on his desk when she returned from the prison. She noticed the picture in the newspaper in which she had circled the man's face. "Of course," she thought, "That's how William found him!" He had gone to the house and found her journal as well. She marveled at the man sometimes. She pulled out the notes from the children. Oh, she loved them so.

Then the note William had written her caught her eye. She re-read it, knowing before she started, that it would make her cry. It said, "I would not be being truthful if I said I am fine without you, for I am not. It seems that you are so intertwined with every aspect of my life, every part of myself, that I cannot listen to someone speak without a memory of you being called up in my mind; I cannot look upon an object without seeing your face at some time or another as you interacted with such a thing; I cannot smell a smell without finding my attention drawn to a time I inhaled such a scent with you; there seems to be no sound that does not remind me of hearing it with you by my side; not even a taste that stands alone, as I find my tongue, too, is connected to countless memories I've shared with you. When we are apart, I seem to live in the past, finding my life only in my memories, or perhaps in the future, as I long to be with you once again. Without you, I have lost my present, my here and now, like a boat with no anchor, ungrounded and adrift in a dense fog. I find there is nothing I can do but wait it out until I can be with you again. It seems that only then can I be truly alive – as it is when we are together that we stand in the present and make memories and make plans for the future. Only with you am I grounded and firmly in the world as opposed to somehow outside of it. Yes, my love, it is true, only with you, am I fine." She folded the note back up with a sniffle. "Where is the man with his handkerchief when you need him", she chuckled to herself.

Out in the bullpen, Gulliver and George had briefly shared their relief that the good doctor had returned. They both anticipated the look of happiness they would see on Detective Murdoch's face when he returned to see her here. Gulliver decided to put the film out of sight in a drawer, feeling the pact the three of them had made to watch felt like a secret. That's when he saw it – recognized it as the one he had been looking for. He snatched the fingermark card up quickly and held it next to the copy of the mark he was looking for. "A definite match!" he exclaimed. "Look George. I've got it!" he said as he passed the evidence to the constable. George agreed – the fingermark on Miss Webster's .12 caliber gun was Detective Murdoch's!

Detective Murdoch returned. He stopped at Gulliver's and Crabtree's desks to be caught up on their progress. They informed him that the rifle Miss Webster had used to attempt to kill him had four other people's fingermarks on it. They had identified three of them. One was Tim O'Shea's, the other two also belonged to bad characters that had frequented the docks in the past. George had already called in Constable Simmons to do overtime and go try to find the two men, as Tim O'Shea was dead.

"Good," Murdoch responded. They were getting closer. He was excited.

Detective Gulliver had saved the really shocking news till last. "Oh, and detective," he started, "We found the print on Miss Webster's .12 caliber gun we were searching for …" He paused, making sure he had the detective's attention. Fighting back a smile for the shear irony of it all, he finished, "It was yours."

"Mine?!" Murdoch questioned. "Mine?" he repeated.

George added, "Yes sir. Yours – there is no question." Detective Gulliver handed Murdoch the two fingermarks to compare for himself. He nodded, they were a match. He lifted his eyes and looked at George, "I'm positive I never handled this gun with my bare hands … It must be from the first time the gun crossed our hands – from when I arrested the owner years ago. Check the files for any of my arrests that involved a .12 caliber."

George agreed but passed the job to Gulliver, explaining he was hoping to go home; exhaustion was taking its toll. "Oh, and sir," he said with a huge smile growing across his face.

Murdoch looked somewhat puzzled at the emotion and asked, "Yes?"

George fought not to blurt it out like a surprise-birthday declaration, saying simply, "Dr. Ogden is waiting for you in your office."

Detective Gulliver and Crabtree shared a look as Murdoch's face hopped to near-elation. "Thank you George," he said with his eyes already turning to see for himself. She sat at the worktable, her back to him. "Have a good night," he finished, already standing at his door and reaching to turn the doorknob.

She had heard his voice, fought the urge to rush to him, as she so wanted their reuniting to be … private. She turned as she heard the door open.

Gulliver tried very, very hard to pretend he wasn't watching as he looked through the files. George put on his hat and took his leave. The stationhouse was nearly empty, only Gulliver and the constable at the front desk left in attendance, as two nighttime constables were assigned outside – one watching Hoyt Obannon's house, the other guarding the Murdoch home. Gulliver dimmed the lights out in the bullpen while the couple talked. He pulled out the camera Murdoch had given him to record the fingermarks. He planned to photograph them. He hoped they would not close the blinds.

William walked in the door, out of habit reaching up as if to hang his hat before remembering he did not have it in his hand. Their eyes met. They each felt a jolt. "Julia," he said, his voice fairly neutral in tone. "Are you still angry?" he asked casually, wanting not to add charge to her reply, and dropping his eyes to his desk. But before the words had completely left his lips, he had recognized her dress – he knew they were alright. His heart soared, "Thank God," he thought.

"A little," she replied, not being completely honest, but wanting to save face, at least a bit.

On his desk he found the picnic basket. She noticed and said, "I believe you probably have not been eating detective…"

Their eyes met again – the connection between them sparking, and yet, they each worked to mask feeling it. William subconsciously touched his stomach. He had not thought about it at all, but he had not eaten since Eloise had brought by some breakfast. He was ravenous. He wrinkled a corner of his mouth admitting she was right and said, "Uh, No … Nothing since this morning." Figuring that the meal would be much more pleasant after they had worked out their differences, William tried to think of something to do before opening up the picnic basket. "Um, I have to update the board first," he said as he walked towards the blackboard harboring the diagram with all of the important information from the case.

Before she joined him, Julia enjoyed the view. It was one of her very favorites – William working at the board. It seemed to bring so many of his special attributes to the forefront; his fit, muscular body, his gorgeous face - focused and intense, and his brilliant mind. By the time she stood next to him, he had added all of the information, and now was standing back to gather what he could from its completion to this point.

Although he could see in his periphery that she was looking at the board, he felt her attention on him. He glanced sideways. His smile grew and his heart flipped as she turned her head and their eyes met again. "My God she's stunning," he thought. Returning his gaze to the board, he took a deep breath and stepped to the potential fire. His face wrinkled, showing some discomfort, and with an air of regret, "Julia," he began, "I have been thinking about it, and I see your point … Um, about my actions having taken your choice away…" He paused, watched closely for her reaction.

She kept her eyes on the board as well. "Yes?" she said.

William swallowed, this part would be harder. "I … I, well … You are right. I was being selfish," he said. He turned to her now. She turned to him too. His urge to touch her began to tug at him, a wayward, golden curl dancing so enticingly on the edge of her face. She took a deep breath. "Preparing herself," he thought. He dug down to find the truth; he knew it was the only thing that worked. "Julia … I can't say I regret … Um, painting you into the corner, as you say. I, um, well, Julia, I need you so very much to be with me. I …"

She reached up, reassured him with her touch. Her thumb brushed across his cheek as her fingers moved in to tuck softly behind his ear, then settled in to play and scratch in his hair. The couple halted momentarily – each stunned as the gravity took them. "It was me who was selfish, William," she said. Then she wrinkled her mouth as she re-thought her statement and added, "Well, at least self-centered. I …" She took another deep breath. "I wasn't thinking right. I had somehow lost my perspective of my whole life – I am your wife, William – your lover. I am our children's mother," she explained. Shame welled up and she dropped her eyes. She felt him hold her with his eyes as she brought her hand back down to rest at her side. "And I struggle, well you know this … I um, find it challenging to give up control," she said, lifting her eyes again to smile, at her tiny inside joke, at her own expense. He appreciated the humor of her self-deprecation with a smile, for there had been quite a few times in their lives where Julia's control issues had brought them some serious bumps in the road. He lifted her chin, bringing her beautiful blue eyes in line with his. She couldn't help but melt, from the inside out, at the sight of his warm, brown, chocolate eyes. She fought to remember what she was going to say. "I want you to know how important you are to me William. That I need you too, and I am sorry, I um, sometimes might take over, and forget how much we do the important things in our lives together," she offered.

William had an idea. He guided her back a step and flipped the board over so that they were looking at the blank side. He picked up a piece of chalk and, starting near the bottom of the board, he drew a line upwards, bending it into a few curves and stopping about half-way up the board. He took a deep breath and said, "I think it's like we are two parallel lines, Julia…" He placed the chalk about an inch away from where he had started the first line at the bottom of the board, and then drew a second line parallel to the first one, keeping them aligned around the curves and bends. He continued, "A change in one brings about a change in the other. Where one bends, the other must bend as well. Sometimes completely together, sometimes in response to a distancing by the other. But we travel the path we make, bonded, somehow deeply tied, together. I guess that this time, it was my turn – that you had to follow me. I'm sorry, but I know in my heart I had no choice …" His voice began to choke-up as he pushed on, "Julia, if you died …" William placed the piece of chalk at the end of the second line he had drawn, and he drew a dark dot on the end – like a period, representing its end. Then he placed the chalk back on the ending of the first line, paused, waiting, stuck, next to the period, and he said, as he vibrated the chalk at the end of the line, "I wouldn't know where to go, what to do, how to be. Everything inside of me would tell me to wait, not to go on without you."

She took another piece of chalk in her fingers. "But you would," she whispered. He saw that she had tears in her eyes as well. She placed the chalk back down at the bottom of the board, in between the two lines that he had already drawn. As she started to draw the third line between the other two she said, "We have our children." When she reached the point where the second line had ended, marked by the period, she looked to him. His piece of chalk still rested at the end of the first line, where it had halted next to the period of its parallel. He understood. She said, "The children would need to move forward, and thus, so would you." They drew the two lines together, the one representing him without her, the other representing their children. Julia followed his line as the children would be linked to him, she matched his turns. But, as they approached the top of the board, Julia intentionally, strongly pulled the line she was drawing away from his. "Someday, they'll go their own way she said, but they will need one of us, at least, until then," she finished.

William took her piece of chalk and placed it with his back in the tray. He took a hold of her upper arms and tightly locked his eyes with hers, "Of course. You are right. But I tell you now Julia," he said, shaking his head, "If there is any way to keep you with me, any way to save you, I will do it. I will do anything I can to keep you by my side…" He dropped his eyes, feeling shame, but then firmly connected to hers again, having already confronted it and feeling confident about his moral decision, he added, "Even lie … even under oath if need be."

"Fine," she replied. "But you had best understand that I feel the same way about you," she said as her hands slid up his chest to stroke and play with his tie. "And I will have you know, William Murdoch," she continued, now loosening the tie, "That I am aware of the bullet holes in your beloved hat … And therefore I also know, that the line that stopped, the line that ended, could just as easily have been yours as mine – And that we need to treasure each moment we have together, knowing the uncertainty of life as we do." She leaned in and covered his lips with hers. Their kiss deepened before he pulled back, changed the angle, and kissed her more passionately as he pulled her into his arms, cloaked her. He broke off the kiss and whispered in her ear, "I love you Julia. You are my everything," and then he nibbled on her ear, and then took her neck aggressively, drawing a moan out of her. The sound sent a bolt of hot need to his groin. He felt her hold on tighter. He knew her knees were growing weak.

She felt his desire for her bulge against her upper thigh through his trousers, and the hard feel of it evoked another moan, this time from deep within her throat. "William," she whispered in his ear. She swallowed as her voice had become dry with her lust. "Oh my God, William … Please," she said desperately.

His mind flipped over and then all thinking seemed to swirl into a foggy blur. His lips found hers again. He drove his tongue deeply, roughly into her mouth. He so wanted to do the same down lower, where his burning need throbbed against his seams, against his hold on his self-control. Julia broke off their kiss and put her lips to his ear. He fought with all of his might not to fall to his knees when he heard, when he felt, her seductive breath warmly cross his ear into his soul. She demanded, pleaded, "Make love to me William." He hung over the edge of restraint. It was only as her hand moved between them, towards his groin, that he pulled back. With a quake of panic, he remembered where they were.

Not certain that he would be granting her request, but not sure that he would not either, he looked at the office windows. Receiving back predominantly his own reflection, as the stationhouse on the other side was fairly dark, William decided they should close the blinds. As he moved to pull the first blind down, Julia joined him. Soon they had as much privacy as could be garnered in the situation.

Julia watched as William's eyes darted from place to place in the room. The worktable had all of the evidence in the case spread out and organized on it. The desk had the picnic basket and lots of papers, the back room had the photograph developing materials set-up. None of the walls looked clear. He decided the desk was the spot, and he began to hurriedly clear it off. Julia rushed to remove her clothes, soon to be joined by her husband's adept hands. He roughly turned her around and tugged hastily at the strings of her corset.

Finished, she turned back to face him. She insisted he remove his clothes as well. Their eyes joined, wildly calling for each other, each leaning back against the force of the pull of the other, in order to finish the task. His suspenders slid over his shoulders, shirt buttons frantically popped. She felt a surge of hot breath blast out of her nostrils as she watched him reach up and pull his undershirt off over his head. "Oh my God he's gorgeous," she thought at the sight of his naked chest. Her womb wrenched, cramping her back into an arch and thieving her breath. She gasped, the sound of it bringing William to thrust his pelvis forward, his mastery of self-control breached. Her eyes dashed down to his trousers. She dropped to her knees in front of him. She wanted to feel him, see him, hold him in her hand, take him in her mouth. Feverishly she undid the buttons of his trousers.

William had to steady himself against the desk, placing a hand on it to slow the spinning of the room. His other hand found the back of her head. He reminded himself to be gentle as he pressed her closer to him. His need was verging on explosion, "Easy William," he coached himself.

She felt the resistance his tight, bicycle-riding, buttocks offered against the back of his trousers and his underwear as she pulled them down. Once the pants had cleared that strong curve of his body, they dove to the floor. Her eyes dilated at the sight of him, exposed and breathtakingly powerful. First she cupped her fingers around him, the touch of his tip pressing up through the middle of her soft fist, forcing William to moan. Her insides burned with the heavenly sound of his pleasure.

Her breath covered him first, then her warm, velvety mouth. "Oh my God she feels so good," he thought. All of his attention honed in on the tip as he felt her repeatedly push against him and then slide around him. He felt the edge hurl towards him and he immediately stopped her. He guided her to her feet. "Oh my God Julia, I want you," he whispered lustily in her ear. He felt her drop in response, and he added, as he forcefully took a hold of her by her hips, "NOW," he said.

She grew even heavier in his grasp as she weakened and succumbed to her desperate want for him. She moaned as she felt her womb wrench into a tighter twist, threatening to burst with the pressure. He picked her up, placing her buttocks on the cold, smooth desktop. And as he stepped between her upper thighs, and she felt his body tangle into the hair bordering her crotch, and the push in, spreading her and sliding down, and then in, fiercely forcing her to yield and open to him, she believed she might die right there and then. The exquisite pleasure plummeted her into agony. She could bear no more. And yet, with his first demanding, massive thrust, a moan of deep ecstasy rose out of her. As if in slow motion, she felt the pull of him as he withdrew back. He stole her breath with anticipation as she waited for the next debilitating wave of pleasure that would come with the next thrust. "Oh yes!" her brain wailed as it came. "Mmm," she moaned again. And again. "William please," she begged. "Oh my God," she cried with the next thrust. She felt it begin, the tilt toward burning ecstasy. She held her breath, knowing she would fall. William's rhythm hurried now. He rushed to join her, taking her with him as she melted and surged with the sound of his moan in her ear. The edges of her center unfurled as they smoldered in response to the heat, to the friction. The warm, beautiful magma rippled outwards to fill every cell in her body. The pleasure lasted so long, but as it slowed, she pumped against him with her hips, sucking every last drop out of the feeling, the sweet, sweet feeling of being with him.

Harry Murdoch had fallen asleep on his couch, cuddled up next to his bottle, his two guns tucked under his pillow, just in case. He was jerked into consciousness as someone busted his door down, and four masked men flooded into his small apartment. Just as he reached a sitting position, he was punched and knocked back down onto the pillow. Slowly he gathered his wits about him. He reached for a gun. He so hoped he'd taken hold of the right one.

While the other men quickly searched his apartment, the closets, under the bed in the other room, the biggest, and meanest of them stood before Harry and leafed through the children's drawings on his table. "Where are they Murdoch?" the man asked.

"I don't know – but they ain't here," Harry replied.

Soon all four men stood before him, guns drawn. "Old man, it's going to hurt if you don't tell me where they are," the evil one threatened.

"I ain't never gonna say," Harry defiantly proclaimed.

The leader laughed, sending chills down Harry's spine. He was glad Harry had resisted. This was not good. As cool as a cucumber, the man took aim at Harry's leg, and fired a shot into his thigh.

The pain nearly knocked him unconscious. But it wasn't the first time Harry Murdoch had been shot, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last either.

"Tell me where they are," the man demanded through clenched teeth.

Harry pulled out his gun and he said, "I will not be tell 'in you that. Tell my boy I died keeping his children safe!" Harry blurted out, right before he aimed the gun at his head, and pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening as the gun fired. Harry Murdoch lay on his side on his couch, with his head drenched in blood; his eyes stared blankly out into space.

"Damn it," the leader yelled. "You idiots! Why didn't you shoot the gun out of his hand! Now we'll never find them. Damn it!" they rushed out, needing to avoid being seen.

The couple had redressed in their underwear and dined together at William's desk on peanut butter-and-jelly. Julia had some wine. They slept entangled together in his reclining chair. Happiness glowed around them.

And yet, after a time, their dreams showed them their fears, as each of them awoke, more than once, with a nightmare. These two had been through many traumas, and such traumas haunted the soul sometimes. Their love comforted each other. Neither of them alone. They were together as they knew they should be. Parallel, but not complete. They needed to make the world safe for their children. They were not yet out of the woods, and there was still thunder rumbling, and wind swirling. Taking William's lead, they would choose offense. When they rose, they would listen for the thunder, let their sharp and wide peripheral vision detect the flashes of lightning, locate the source of the storm's force – then move towards it. Now, they were now chasing the storm.