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holding him close and absently running her hands over his chest. The time

they’d spent together over the past few days had been different than any

other time they’d spent before.

Without a doubt, Vi was one of the strongest, most admirable women he

knew. In this most difficult of times, she still had the strength and stamina to

console others. For some unknown reason, he was experiencing something

on a much deeper level that made him acknowledge that she also was a very

beautiful woman. Soft and shapely, café mocha brown and petite, she was

definitely not lacking in the areas that separated the girls from the women.

He shook himself slightly in an attempt to shut down the niggling, improper

thoughts running through his mind about Mrs. Simpson. But, they lingered.

Innocent as it was, her touch had elicited unwanted things from his body.

Her cool, slender hands had branded his chest with their gentleness. This

morning, something undeniable had shifted between them, at least for him.

The memory of her nearness earlier today in that bathroom had made him hot

and cold all at once. What passed between them today was something he’d

never felt before. What was it? Had she felt it too? Of course not!

Shaking himself harder this time, Clayton finally put a mental choke hold

on this useless line of thinking. Unsure of himself and where these feelings

had come from, he made a decision; whatever was happening, he damn sure

wasn’t going to act on it.
It wasn’t right. Was it?

59

While Clayton drove the rest of the way to Vi’s house, deep in thought,

Casey was across town feeling too nauseous to get out of bed. After a light

dinner, she lay down for a little while, hoping to ease her suffering. Coupled

with the fact she hadn’t heard from or seen Craig in three days, the constant

queasiness persisted. She’d left over half a dozen messages for him. If he

was still mad at her, she reasoned, he could have at least called back!

Fine
, she thought,
let him be mad.
Casey closed her eyes and turned over

in a huff, trying to recall the last time she’d seen him. She remembered he’d

left that morning without saying goodbye. Although she knew about the

busy day he had planned she didn’t question why he had left so abruptly,

because of their argument that morning. Opening her eyes, she threw back

the covers and swore inwardly. When they argued in the past, it had never

lasted this long. Not calling for three days or picking up his cell phone was

juvenile. It was inexcusable, childish and thoughtless. Sitting on the edge

of her bed pouting, it suddenly occurred to her that acting childish and

thoughtless was so unlike Craig.

Walking barefoot across the room, Casey got out of bed and went into the

bathroom to take a shower. As she stepped under the warm spray of water,

she felt the slight swell of her belly as she thoroughly soaped her body. A

heated sensation assailed her and nestled very low in her abdomen. In her

mind, Casey recalled the last time she and Craig were together, right here in

this very shower. She closed her eyes as an answering throb developed

between her thighs standing still under the showerhead. Enjoying the

pulsing stream of water cascading over her skin, she smiled as the

recollection of their coming together danced behind her eyelids...

Craig had been upset when she slipped out of bed that morning to take a

quick shower. To her surprise, as soon as she turned the water on, he slipped

inside the stall behind her and joined her under the warm spray. When she

turned around, his lips covered hers in a sweet, tender kiss that quickly

turned probing and insistent. In her mind’s eye, Casey pictured how his

arms had slipped around her waist. How big his hands were, as they slid

slowly down her soapy body to cup her firmly from behind. Caught up in

the feel of his arousal, pressed so intimately against her abdomen, Casey’s

own hips swayed toward him in liquid invitation. She felt Craig’s entire

body tense in need, as her seductive movements went straight to his head,

causing the muscular arms beneath her fingertips to harden and bunch.

In a flash, his grasp on her backside tightened as he lifted her with ease and

pinned her back firmly against the shower wall. She remembered wrapping

her arms around his neck, holding on tight while he positioned himself

between her thighs. Then he was there, entering her in one powerful, fluid

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movement. Her breathing became labored as he took possession of her

flesh, driving into her again and again, completely taking her breath away.

Then, the doorbell rang.
The doorbell rang?

The ringing bell invaded her delicious thoughts and it took Casey a

moment before she realized someone was at the door. When she did her,

eyes popped open and the hot memory instantly slipped away, like so much

water down the drain.

Thinking it might be Craig, she reached for a towel. She dried off quickly

and threw on a terry cloth robe. Rushing to see who it was, she felt that

hopeful feeling slip away as she opened the door to find J.R. standing there,

wearing a huge grin.

Reading her obvious disappointment, the boy couldn’t help teasing Casey as

he walked inside. “What? Were you expecting Brad Pitt?”

She smiled slightly as he came in, and gave him a brief hug before closing

the door. Feeling the need to explain she told him, “Very funny. I thought

you might be Craig,” then a sudden thought struck. “Is everything alright at

home,” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“When has anything ever been alright at home?” His neutral tone gave

nothing away.

Casey walked over to her small sofa and sat down. Looking at him, she

tapped the seat next to her, motioning him to join her. “So, what’s up?”

“We got kicked out of the Center.” His off-base answer and hesitant tone

threw her for a moment. She sat waiting for him to explain and he didn’t

disappoint her. “Me and the guys can’t play basketball there anymore until

my coach gets back to supervise us.”

Thinking there had to be more, she prompted him, “So, what else?”

As if on cue, he opened up completely, sharing what was really on his

mind. “She’s got another new boyfriend. This one’s into crack.”

Casey knew J.R. was speaking about his mother. Since J.R.’s dad left, it

seemed his mom had the misfortune of meeting more than her share of

losers. Casey studied him in silence, her own worries fading as she focused

on the boy. Although they were distant cousins on his mother’s side, their

families had never been close. So she was surprised when he started coming

around when she moved back in town several months ago. They started

spending a lot of time together and Casey quickly became genuinely fond of

J.R. That’s how Casey found out about his situation at home. Whenever

things got out of hand at home, J.R. would normally crash at his coach’s

apartment. Her moving back in town, however, meant he had one other

place to go when there was trouble at home.

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J.R. slumped lower on the sofa, getting comfortable. Without another word,

he picked up the remote control, aimed it at the TV and turned to Cartoon

Network. “Anyway, I couldn’t stand hanging around there anymore, so…”

he shrugged his bony shoulders nonchalantly and looked over at her. “Since

I couldn’t go to the Center, and coach wasn’t home, I came here.”

“You know you can always crash here, kid. The sofa’s a little lumpy but

it’s all yours.”

The assuring tone in her voice made the boy smile, but when she looked

away, J.R. noticed the drawn look on her face and dark circles under her

eyes. Much wiser than most fourteen-year-old boys his age, J.R. sensed

something was bothering Casey and asked her about it.

After a moment’s hesitation, she sighed heavily and looked at the boy.

“Craig and I had a fight three days ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”

J.R. knew that his coach’s friend and Casey talked sometimes at the few

practices she went to. He was not, however, aware that the two of them had

hooked up. “So, why don’t you call him?”

“I have but his voicemail keeps picking up.”

J.R. was certain whatever she was worrying over couldn’t be good for the

baby she carried. Unsure how to help her, J.R. suggested she call Craig’s

job.

His job
! Casey thought.
Why hadn’t she thought of that
? She quickly got

up to make the call.

“Amityville Police, Sgt. Piterrelli speaking.”

“Hello…I...I’m looking for Craig Simpson.”

The bombing voice belonging to officer Piterrelli was silent for so long that

Casey thought he hadn’t heard what she said. “Hello, are you there?” she

asked.

“Yes, ma’am I’m still here. Uh, may I ask who is calling?”

“I…,” Casey caught herself, before blurting out her name. Recovering

quickly, she continued, “I’m a personal friend of his.”

“Hold on a minute please.”

Before she could say anything else, classical music came on. Casey held

the receiver to her ear so long, she felt sure the man forgot he put her on

hold. Then, a new voice came through the receiver.

“Hello, ma’am, this is Captain Jackson. May I ask whom I’m speaking

with?

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The agitation that crept into Casey’s voice turned slightly desperate as she

addressed this new person. “I told the other guy I’m a friend and I’ve been

trying for days to get in touch with Craig Simpson.” An uneasy feeling

washed over her as she tried to explain to this Captain Jackson. “Listen…if

he’s not there, can I at least leave him a message?” The dead silence that

followed her last question lasted much longer than before, making her

extremely nervous. When the man who called himself Captain Jackson

finally spoke, Casey had no idea how much his next words would change her

life forever.

“Ma’am, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but Officer Simpson was

shot and killed three days ago.”

J.R., who was watching television with his back to Casey, turned around

when the phone hit the floor with a thud. In a flash, he was scrambling off

the sofa as Casey hit the floor, right after the phone fell from her hands.

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