"Laurel, do we have a new lawn service?" It was a Saturday afternoon several weeks later and Jack had just come home from a visit with some friends.
"No. I haven't changed anything," Laurel looked up from the list of 'baby essentials' that she was reviewing. "Why?"
"Because there is an old, beat-up, pick-up truck sitting in the street across from our house," Jack reported. "And, I think I can see two people and a dog in the cab."
"Did you see the license plate?" Laurel was struggling to push her chair back and stand up.
"Not really," Jack replied. "But, I think it was from out-of-state." He walked over to pull the chair back for his stepmother.
"Should I go back outside and look?" he volunteered.
"Not just yet," Laurel told him. "Where is Paige?"
"I think she's still with Coach Tovah and Aunt Penelope," Jack told her. "They were going to lock in her competition music and then decide on a new dress."
"Good," Laurel said. "That should take them most of the afternoon. Now, I need you to take your cell phone and a pair of binoculars and go through the upstairs door into Aunt Jessica's place. You should be able to see the license plate from up there. If it is a Michigan plate, I need you to call me immediately and let me know."
"And, if it is a Michigan plate, I'll call the police while you call Uncle Dave," she concluded.
"What about Dad?" Jack asked. "Do you want me to call him, too?"
"Not yet," Laurel replied. "He's out of town and we don't need to worry him. If we handle this wisely, we should be able to do it ourselves."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"The plates are from Michigan," Jack reported via cell phone a short time later. "And, it looks like the two people are getting out of the vehicle."
"I can see that on the security cameras," Laurel replied from where she was standing in the kitchen watching the monitors. "I'm calling the police. Your father has requested additional patrols in this area, so they shouldn't be too far away. And, if you will call Uncle Dave and tell him what is going on, and then get back down here with me?"
"I am walking and talking," Jack assured her.
The weather-beaten, older couple was relentlessly beating on the Hotchner's front door when the police pulled up a few minutes later. As soon as it appeared that the officers had everything under control, Laurel opened the door and she and Jack stepped out onto the porch.
"Mrs. Hotchner?" the officer inquired. "Are you okay?"
"I'm just fine," was the assurance. "If you could get these people out of here?"
"They say they have a right to be here. That they are your in-laws and that they want to see their granddaughter," the second officer volunteered.
"She ain't no Mrs. Hotchner!" Mrs. Mercer spat out. "She's an adulterer, that's what she is. She's Mrs. Mercer."
"A bigamist is what she is and that baby she's carrying is a bastard!" Mr. Mercer declared angrily. "And that is the type of household our granddaughter is being raised in!"
"We aren't here to judge that now," the first officer told the couple. "However, as we understand it, there is a restraining order preventing you from coming within 500 feet of this residence. So, I am going to have to ask you to leave."
"If you want to see your granddaughter, you will need to get in touch with Family Services to arrange for visitation," the second officer added.
An expensive looking black car pulled up and screeched to a halt in front of the house.
"Laurel!" Rossi sprung out of it. "I got Jack's call. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dave," Laurel replied.
"Who is this? Another one of your fancy boyfriends?" Mrs. Mercer demanded nastily. "Another one of your adultereees?"
"We just want to get our granddaughter out of this house of sin," her husband added.
"House of sin? Adulterer?" Laurel exclaimed. "What in heaven's name are you two talking about?"
"Jezabel!" Mr. Mercer spit at her, leaving a pile of slime on the ground at her feet.
"Laurel, why don't you go back inside?" Rossi suggested. "Let me deal with this."
"No - I want to know what is going on," Laurel insisted. "And, before you two say anything further, remember that first off, my husband is a federal agent and, secondly, that you have witnesses. So, this had better be good!"
"Laurel?" Jack put his hand on his stepmother's arm. "Are you sure? Uncle Dave is here."
"Your husband is Bradley Mercer, our son," Mrs. Mercer declared. "And, Mister Federal Agent ain't – "
"Your son is dead and buried!" Laurel interrupted the woman. "I saw his grave and I have a certified copy of his death certificate. So I don't know what you are talking about."
"Oh no he's not!" Mr. Mercer looked at her slyly. "That body in that grave is our son Robert, not Bradley. Bradley is still alive and he wants to see his daughter."
"And we are here to take her to him," Mrs. Mercer added.
"What the - ?" Laurel suddenly felt dizzy. "Dave – Dave - I don't feel – "
"MOM!" was the last thing she remembered hearing. "MOM!"