CHAPTER SEVEN

August, 2044



Jessikah Massengill thought she was going to be ill.

She read the report that had come into Nik's office about an attack on teenagers in Maine. Two were still missing, one was in the hospital with life threatening injuries after being sexually assaulted.

That brought back memories in Jessikah that she did not wish to remember. But did anyway.

"Hello, Jessikah," the head tennis coach said to her during her sophomore year of high school; "Mind if I join you?"

She had been in the showers in the ladies locker room, and the male coach came in to "join" her. This had been the second time this had happened.

He pushed her up against the wall of the shower stall and raped her until she bled.

"Remember, Miss Peters, you say anything, and you will not play in next week's match for the state championship," the coach taunted. He then left her there.

It had taken all her strength to get out of the showers, dry off, get dressed, and go home. She decided that she didn't care if she played in the championship match or not. What he was doing to her was against everything she'd been taught by her parents.

If he was doing this shit to her, how many other girls had he done it to, and how many more would he do it to before he was stopped?

Jessikah decided that no other tennis player at Carson High would suffer from this man's abuse of power.

She told her parents. The doctors in the emergency room at the hospital. The police. The school administration.

Soon he would go to trial, where Jessikah would learn that he had assaulted girls for fifteen years. He went to prison with a sentence so lengthy that it guaranteed he'd  never see daylight again. Jessikah and her twin, Mary Grace, transferred to another high school.

Other than her parents and sister, no one else knew of this. Not even her beloved Conner knew until he pressed the issue. She remembered feeling relief after telling him. She feared that he would see her as damaged.

Jessikah shook her head to clear it. Thinking about Conner made her sad. When he died overseas on a mission with his Marine unit, it left a huge void in Jessikah's world.  At least she had their children, and her memories so she could tell Gracie and Conner David what kind of man their father was.

She got back to the task at hand. She set the article aside to fax to Nik later. It was something that he and Senator Donovan needed to see, since it took place in Maine where the Senator's brother lived.

Jessikah wished she could talk to the poor little gal who was the victim of this terrible crime. That with counselling and time, it does get better. She was living proof.

She'd be shocked when she found out that the "poor little gal" she assumed was the victim turned out to be a young man whose name she knew.

Then she really would be ill.

===


Julia hated to take time off from her job at the hospital, but it was mid August when she had to testify in a trial involving her son, Zachary, and her son in law, Jared Walters.

Zach and Jared had caught people on the Summers' property two months earlier trying to steal the small herd of cattle Julia owned, and both young men had taken up weapons and killed three men who had been trespassing. The trespassers, and their accomplices who got away, had seriously injured the family's prize bull, Sarge, and a younger bull called Master Guns. While "Gunny" survived his wounds, Sarge did not. Zach and Jared were later arrested on charges of "intent to kill"; the men's lawyers insisted that Zach Summers and Jared Walters were only defending the family's property and livestock from those intent to take what was not theirs. The lawyer also noted that the Summers' property had signage around the perimeter stating that "these premises will be vigorously defended against intruders intent on committing a crime", and signage that stated that "The bulls can make it to the fenceline in 8 seconds".

"I can attest to the signage," Julia stated in her testimony. "When we first moved to this property after the Occupation had ended several years before, my late husband Ryan Summers had put up the signs even before the animals were ever brought there. It was to discourage the very thing that occurred that led to my son and son in law to shoot the men trespassing on my property. I have every right under the current laws to protect my property and livelihood. Zach and Jared did just that."

The people who brought the charges of murder against Zach and Jared were the two widows of two of the men, and the mother of the third.  They testified how their lives had changed because of what happened to them. 

"Then maybe they shouldn't have been trying to steal what wasn't theirs!" Zach's fiancee Lisette cried out in court.

"No, Lisette," Julia told her quietly but firmly, "that could get Zach in more trouble."

That did not please the proscecutor very much. "Miss Lincoln, I trust there will be no more outbursts," he said to Lisette. "Next time, it's contempt."

"Jerk," Julia said under her breath.

"My boy didn't steal nothin'," the mother, who was currently on the stand, said hotly.

"Ms. Rodriguez," the proscecuting attorney said, "Same goes for you. No more outbursts."

In the end, Zach and Jared were acquitted and were free to go. Zach and Lisette went home. Jared accompanied Julia back to the ranch, then went to his house on the property where Jaime and Serenity waited for him.

Years later, Ms. Rodriguez would sell Mrs. Walters out to the one man Jaime should have been afraid of.

How could one be afraid of a threat they're not aware of?

===

Nico's first few days in Hawaii were peaceful and relaxing. She explored the island, sat by the pool at the hotel; went to the beach occasionally. Young men constantly hit on her, which Nico found hilarious. They're young enough to be my sons! she thought.

One afternoon, one of them went too far when he slid his hand down the back of Nico's bikini bottoms. She asked him to remove his hand or she'd scream. He didn't, she did.

He was 19 years old.

"But..." he said when he was removed from the hotel pool area.

"But nothing," Nico said; "Be lucky they're only removing you, and I'm not pressing charges. You never know when you're messing with a police officer."

"You're a cop?" one of the officers taking Nico's statement asked.

"I was," said Nico; "I'm retired now."

"Where?"

"Chicago."

"You're not old enough to be retired! You can't be more that forty!" he said.

"Thanks," Nico said; "I am more than forty though. Most police departments have policies about the health of their members. I qualified for retirement under one of those policies."

"I know what you mean," the officer said. "We have that here, too. In paradise, no less!"

"Being an officer is stressful no matter where you are," Nico said.

"Some guys have all the luck though," the officer said; "Take that older guy over there; he's the owner of the hotel. He's in his sixties, and he doesn't look a day over fifty."

Nico looked, and saw a man with greying, dark hair with his back to her. He had a physique most men would die for.

Kinda like Eddie, she thought.

Then she wondered briefly if this is where he went when he left her in a seedy Chicago motel room nearly a decade before.

Nico thought better of it. But someone was putting money into her secret account every year on her birthday...

She finished up her business with the police officer and went back inside to go to her room and shower. Then she might go downstairs to dinner. Maybe the little boys would leave her alone for once.

===

Almost from the moment she said, "Chicago", Marshall's eyes went to the sound of the very familiar voice.

Nicoletta! he thought in shock; Have you come looking for me?

He'd been watching her for the last two days, hoping against hope that she was his green-eyed angel.

But he remembered that he broke his promise to her, and therefore, in his mind, she was off limits. His arms still ached to hold her and ask for forgiveness. Would she forgive me? he asked himself; Do I have a right to even ask?

Then the phone call came. Someone asking for him by name.

"Mr. Marshall, I'm Stefanie Travetti," the older, but still recognisable voice said; "I'm calling to ask you questions about Nicoletta Nichols."

"Such as...?" he had asked.

"That name is familiar to you, isn't it?"

"Yes," Marshall had replied; "I've met her."

"Mr. Marshall, let's not beat around the bush here," Stefanie said; "You had a brief affair with her nearly a decade ago around the time her husband passed away."

"Well,  yes," Marshall said; "She was an undercover cop then, and I was wanted by the FBI."

"I know all about your involvement in the American Republic Movement, Mr. Marshall," said Stefanie; "Your group was trying to assassinate The Triad. One of The Triad recently became my great grandson's mother in law."

"Julia Summers," Marshall said; "I read the engagement announcement in the online Times-Tribune."

"I see," Stefanie said.

"What's your connection to Julia Summers, other than being the groom's great grandmother?" asked Marshall.

"Nico Nichols is my granddaughter, and after you disappeared from her life, she mourned your loss just as hard as she mourned her husband's. She spent that whole year on bereavement leave," said Stefanie.

"She's your granddaughter?" asked Marshall; "I knew Kit Crowley was her mother. Are you Kit's mother?"

"Yes, Kit was my only daughter," Stefanie said sadly; "I moved to Chicago to be closer to Nicoletta, as she was the oldest of Kit's children."

Marshall thought it all made sense now; Nicoletta had told him the truth about her family while she was undercover. Every lie always had elements of the truth.

"Why have you called me, then, Ms. Travetti?" he asked; "Yes, I know Nicoletta Nichols. I haven't seen her in nearly ten years."

"Nicoletta is planning a vacation in Hawaii in the next few weeks, and I'm paying for her airfare and hotel," Stefanie said; "I'm going to put her in your hotel. Mr. Marshall, you need to give her closure to whatever it was you had together, because she needs it desperately. She has not dated or gone out with any other men in the decade since her husband passed. I think maybe she thinks you'll return to her someday. She'd never admit that to anyone, not even me."

And I'll never admit that I fell in love with her, that I still love her, Marshall thought. Not even to you, Ms. Travetti.

Now, Nicoletta was in his hotel. He'd seen her with his own eyes. Still as beautiful as ever.

Please forgive an old fool, he said to himself.

Oh, God! Edward!

===

CHAPTER SIX

August, 2044


There were two groups that made up the junior art exhibit at the Bangor fairgrounds; ages 14 to 16, and ages 17-18. Wyatt was in the former group, and he had been named the winner. Joe and Tracy were pleased with their son's showing, and the head judge, Donal Simpson, walked over to congratulate them and Wyatt.

"Your boy has an enormous talent," Simpson said; "I expect him to go far in his artistic pursuits."

"We are proud of Wyatt," Joe said, feeling the same thing that Tracy had felt the day before; that he knew the judge from somewhere else. "I wish I had just a little of his talent. My wife and I encouraged it from an early age, maybe five or six years old."

"I've only seen talent like that in much older artists," said Simpson; "Wyatt truly has a gift. He should definitely look into scholarships that the Maine School of Art awards incoming freshmen. But, he's only, what 14? He's got plenty of time."

Simpson then shook Wyatt's hand and congratulated him again on his First Place prize. He then walked away. Wyatt was abuzz with excitement.

"Wow, Mom and Dad," he said excitedly; "The Maine School of Art! I'd love to be able to go there to study!"

"Keep up the good work, and we'll see about that, Wyatt," Joe said. "Mom and I are proud of you! We're going to call Winter and your sisters as soon as we get home."

Wyatt excused himself to go to the men's room. On the way, Randy stopped him and offered his congratulations. Then Wyatt went on his way.

He took care of his business and went to the sink to wash his hands. He didn't see the older man until he placed a cloth over Wyatt's nose and mouth. Wyatt strugged against the older and stronger man, but by then, it was too late.

The man called to an accomplice to help carry the now unconscious Wyatt out of the restroom and exit the exhibit hall by a fire door. Wyatt was placed in a van, his arms and legs secured with rope. The doors were shut behind him. The older man spoke into a secure phone, saying,

"I have the Donovan boy. He's going to get what's coming to him whether he likes it or not. I've waited eleven years for this kid, and I won't be denied!"


===


Winter froze in his tracks.

His Sixth Sense was alerting him to danger, but Winter didn't know why.

"Nik?"

"Yeah, Winter?" Nikky replied.

"You feel something, I don't know, weird?" asked Winter.

"Kinda, but what are you feeling?"

"That one of my siblings is in trouble."

Nikky's eyebrows shot up in shock. His Sixth Sense was telling him something was wrong, but it was just with Winter, not Winter's sisters or brother.

"Winter, let's look at this rationally," Nikky said; "Danica is still in Chicago with Sandy; Kendree is in New Hampshire; and Wyatt's with your folks. What do you think might be the trouble one of them is in?"

"I don't know, Nik, that's just it," Winter said; "I can feel it, but I can't read the signs."

"Because, dude, I am getting signs that YOU are in trouble," Nikky said.

"Me?" asked Winter.

"Yes, and there's someone staking out the house," Nikky said; "if we go back there, then all hell's going to break loose."

"Is Carissa in danger?" Winter asked.

Nikky was on the phone to his fiancee, Carissa Colasanto, to call the police about a possible stalker near their home.

"She's calling the police, and they'll come right away, just because I am who I am," Nikky said.

"The stepson of the former Director of the CIA, no doubt," Winter said.

"Yes, that," Nikky said; "but the twin brother of a CIA operative. All of a sudden, Vixen has a lot of pull in this town. Maybe on her own merits, and maybe on Mom's or Darren's."

Just then, Nikky's phone rang. It was Carissa.

"Baby," she said, "they caught someone snooping around the neighborhood. He's one of those whack jobs with that Second Occupation group. Says he was looking for an Undesirable that might be in our neighborhood. Then he gave Winter's name."

"Great," Nikky said; "did this jerk say anything else?"

"That if his uncle won the election in November, then he'd not live long enough to take the Oath of Office," Carissa said. "Then, he said that Wyatt was going to pay for his family's support of an Undesirable Presidential candidate!"

"Wyatt? He's fuckin' 14 years old!" Nikky said; "What could he have done to raise their ire?"

"Being Wyatt," Winter said angrily. Winter knew that he had to go back to Maine. If those Second Occupation asswipes hurt Wyatt, he thought, they will pay...with their lives if need be.

Nikky ended his call, then said to Winter, "Don't get any ideas about trying to off whoever it is who targetted Wyatt, Winter. You and I are going to Maine in the morning. Sandy and your sister should be back by then. I'll call Vixen and let her know what's going on. She might be able to find out something we don't know about the situation."

"Nik, you don't have to do that," Winter said. "I'd rather take care of it alone."

"Like hell you will!" Nikky said; "You're too close to it and you'll let your emotions rule. We have to be methodical and cunning. If they know you're coming, you might not have a brother after it's over."

Nik has a point, Winter thought.

"Okay, Nik, we'll do it your way, but if they hurt Wyatt, I'll kill them all."

===

Wyatt found himself in an unfamiliar place, laying on the floor. He realized he was bound hand and foot and he knew that meant he was in some serious trouble.

Where am I? he asked himself. I was in the men's room, then that guy put something over my face, then I wake up here. But where is "here"?

"Hello, Wyatt," a vaguely familiar voice said; "I trust you slept well."

"Where am I?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" the voice said; "You're going to die here. Your parents will never see you alive again."

"What do you want?"

"Why, Wyatt, don't you know?" the voice said, the face attached to it coming into view. Wyatt had no idea who this man was. "I ran the children's home you and your brother lived in before the Donovans adopted you. You probably don't remember, do you? You were only three when you left. I've waited eleven years to educate you properly. I know a fag when I see one."

Wyatt's eyes grew wide. He'd never told anyone how he felt about some of the guys he knew at school. How did this guy know?

"How do I know you're a fag, Wyatt?" the man asked him; "You're an artist. You're sensitive. And I've been watching you for a long time. You're going to be my bitch whether you like it or not. Then I'll have to kill you."

"I'm not gay," Wyatt said. He was terrified.

"The hell you're not!" the man cried as he started to untie the bindings that held Wyatt immobile. "I saw how you looked at some of the guys at the art show. You definitely swing that way."

Wyatt knew what was about to happen to him. Death would be a welcome option.

===

"Tracy, has Wyatt come back from the restroom?" Joe asked his wife. "He's been gone far too long."

"I was just thinking that," Tracy said, remembering that judge who made her feel uncomfortable. What was his name? she asked herself.

"I'm going to go check," Joe said; "something's not right with this."

Wyatt's in trouble,  he thought. He'd never be gone this long otherwise.

As he entered the men's room, Joe's heart sank. There had been a struggle of some sort.

Something on the floor caught Joe's attention. He looked down and saw that it was a Saint Christopher medal. Joe and Tracy had given each of the boys one when they were confirmed, and this one looked like Wyatt's.

He picked it up off the floor and turned it over.

On the back was inscribed: WAD 03-11-2038.

Wyatt Andrew Donovan. March 11, 2038 was the date he was confirmed.

"Oh dear God," Joe said aloud.

He looked further and saw one of Wyatt's sneakers in a corner of a stall. He left it there because he realized that the restroom was a crime scene.

His son had been kidnapped. What am I going to tell Tracy? he asked himself in a panic.

He left the restroom and looked to his left.

Wyatt's other sneaker was laying by a door.

Opening the door, Joe saw that it led outside. In a now empty parking space, he saw something that he didn't want to see.

His son's jeans.

Joe felt sick. Whoever took his boy was going to do something physical to him.

God, please, he prayed as he went back inside the exhibition all, whatever they do, don't let them rape my son.

===

Simpson! Tracy thought, remembering the judge's name; Donal Simpson.

She turned to see Joe heading toward her with two police officers. And she thought the worst: something bad had happened to Wyatt.

"Tracy," Joe said, "Wyatt is missing!"

"What?!"

"Mrs. Donovan," one of the officers said, "we have reason to believe your son has been kidnapped. Tell us everything you remember about your stay in Bangor."

Tracy told the officers about the judge who made her feel uneasy, and Joe said that he thought the same thing about the man. She gave them the name that had been on his badge.

"Ma'am, we found a Donal Simpson dead in his home the day before yesterday, so whomever it was you saw with that name, he was an imposter," the second officer said.

"There are two other youngsters who are missing as well," the first officer replied. "A boy named Randy, and a girl named Linda. Their parents reported them missing a short time ago. Linda is only 12, and we think at this point that she's being held against her will, as well as your son and Linda's brother Randy."

"Why my son?" Tracy asked.

"Every parent asks themselves, and us, that same question," the first officer said. "At this point, we don't know. We'll need to talk further at the station."

"Can we gather up Wyatt's paintings and gear first?" asked Joe, wondering if he looked as pale as he felt.

"Yes, as we may not be coming back here," the officer said; "You have fifteen minutes to take your son's exhibit down."

Joe took down the woodburned sign that Frank had made for Wyatt for this same art show last year, before they learned he was too young to enter. The sign only said "WYATT DONOVAN". Joe looked at the sign and hoped and prayed that it wouldn't become his son's gravemarker.

That made him angry. Wyatt had done nothing to provoke anyone.

Joe wanted, for the first time since he was 17 years old, to kill someone. If anyone hurts my boy, they better pray the cops get to them first, because I will not be responsible for what I will do to them if I catch them.

His older son and a nephew would beat them to it.

===

It was not just the one man, Wyatt discovered. It was four of them. Two of them weren't much older than Winter.

Wyatt prayed to die. Please, God, take me now!

He'd never been in so much pain, never felt so sick. The men called him every dirty name they could think of as they assaulted him. The oldest of them, the man who had drugged him and brought him to this place, was the worst. He kept asking Wyatt if he liked what was being done to him. Not that he could answer, because they stuffed his mouth with his own underwear.

One of the younger men kicked Wyatt in the ribs so hard that he heard them crack. Before the guy could do any more damage, the older man said they were leaving; that Wyatt would die there, then they'd dispose of his remains.

Wyatt willed himself to stay alive long enough to tell his parents goodbye. He removed his shorts from his mouth and attempted to put them on. It was painful, but he managed. He also discovered that he was covered in blood.

I have to get out of here! he thought. I am not going to die here!

He stood, painfully, because at least three ribs were broken. He made his way to the door and opened it.

Outside, it was dark. He realized that he was still at the fairgrounds, just in a different exhibition hall. He needed to get back to his parents car. He knew he needed a doctor.

He walked in a great deal of pain. He was feeling lightheaded, and all he could think of was getting back to his mom and dad. I haven't even met Kendra yet, he thought. I want to go home and die.

Wyatt saw people up ahead, and all he could do is call out, "Help me! Someone, please..."

A woman saw him and he watched as she grew pale. "My God, what happened?!"

Knowing he was going to pass out, he said to her, "My name is Wyatt Donovan, please find my parents. My dad's name is Joseph, and my mom's is Tracy Kay. I'm going to die."

He felt someone catch him as he fell, but by that time, he didn't care. He just hoped that Grandpa Frank would be there to meet him, wherever he was.

===

Joe and Tracy had been at the police station for what seemed to them like an eternity. Each was lost in their own thoughts. Tracy wondered if anyone was even looking for Wyatt.

Joe was plotting revenge. He and Tracy had just learned that the man who Tracy met named Donal Simpson was actually a man named Carl Hardwicke. Hardwicke was a known pedaphile. He was dismissed from the children's home that they adopted Wyatt and Winter from shortly after their adoption became final because he abused the children in his care. Joe was determined to find this Hardwicke and give him a taste of Joe's brand of justice.

Tracy prayed that the police would find Wyatt alive. She could not imagine burying her father and her son within six months. She held on to the St. Christopher medal that Joe had found in the men's room where Wyatt's shoe was found. Please, Lord, just bring my son back to me, she prayed.

"Joey..." she said to her husband, "I'm scared."

Joe pulled Tracy as close to him as the uncomfortable police station chairs would allow and said, "I am, too."

They dozed off for about ten minutes before an officer came to them to tell them that Wyatt had been found, and was in a local hospital undergoing surgery.

"Surgery?" Tracy asked.

"Mrs. Donovan, Wyatt has four broken ribs and major damage to his anus," the officer said; "He lost a lot of blood. The docs at the hospital were barely able to stop the bleeding."

"That means that whoever took my son raped him," Joe said, angry. "They meant to kill him."

"Mr. Donovan, we don't know for sure that..."

"God dammit," Joe said; "You said 'major damage to his anus'. To me that means someone sexually assaulted and/or sodomized my 14 year old son long enough to cause damage that almost proved fatal. Are you even looking for the people responsible for this? Or do mixed race teenage boys get sodomized here regularly and you just don't give a fuck? Or, something more sinister than that, like the fact that my brother is running for President of the United States and someone wants him to drop out of the race by killing an old man and raping a teenage boy? You want to answer that for me, Officer?"

The officer looked blankly at Joe. Donovan's stare demanded answers that the officer didn't have. "We are looking for the people responsible, Mr. Donovan!" he stammered.

"Well, while you're looking for them, why doesn't someone take me and my wife to the hospital to see our son!" Joe said.

===

A 16 year old girl who was about seven months pregnant got off the bus at the station in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Relatives of her biological father, whom she never knew, were waiting for her.

"Gwendolyn," her aunt said, "welcome to Halifax. I've waited your whole life to meet you. I'm so sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

"Please," the girl said, "call me Wendy. Only my mother calls me Gwendolyn."

"Why is that?" her uncle asked; "Wendy is a fine name."

"Because her husband told her to," Wendy said; "His word is law. He's an abusive, sick jerk. Because of him, I can never go home and rescue my baby sister from his sick habits."

The uncle became angry. Said he, "Is he the reason you're pregnant? Did he rape you?"

Wendy looked at the floor in shame. "He didn't rape me, but he allowed another man to because he gave my stepfather money to do so."

Wendy's aunt looked like she was going to be ill.

"We'll take care of you and your baby," the aunt said; "We'll adopt him or her if you'd like."

"It's a little girl, and yes, if you want to adopt her, I will allow it."

"Let's go home and get you settled, then," the aunt said; "I'm your father's sister, and I'll answer any questions about him that you have."

They got into the car and drove off. Wendy would not return to Kittery, Maine for nearly four years. When she did return, it would to be to find the boy she had grown fond of.

===

CHAPTER FIVE

Mid July, 2044

Jere's campaign for President was going well. He had just won his party's nomination for the White House, and had chosen a running mate; Angus Hammer was a good twenty years older than Jere, and had the experience that Jere felt he lacked. He knew that his main competition for the nomination, Richard Pike, was disappointed in losing out to Jere, but vowed to support him by going out and talking him up to the voters.

The Candidate, however, wanted five minutes alone where he was thinking about anything other than running for president. I missed Rachel's wedding, he thought. But he also wanted his wife to be there with him, and not in Chicago working at the hospital.

Since he wasn't likely to see Jasmine for at least a couple of weeks, he sat back in the campaign bus and allowed himself to daydream about the next time he'll see the most beautiful girl in the world.

===

The wedding of Rachel Regina Summers and Nicolas David Nichols was a nice affair, coordinated by the cousins of the bride. Rachel didn't even have to think about anything except getting to the church on time.

Their mothers both cried, Rachel's cousin and maid of honor, Aaliyah Donovan, caught the bouquet; and Aaliyah's boyfriend, Robby Crandall, caught the garter.

All too soon, the newlyweds were on their way to O'Hare to fly to Miami to go on their honeymoon cruise to the Bahamas.

"Now that we've got the kids married off," Julia said to Cole's mother, Nico, "What are we going to do with ourselves now that there are no kids at home anymore?"

"I don't know about you, Julia," Nico said, "but I'm going get out of here for a while."

"I wish I could do that," Julia said; "but I work nearly 90 hours a week. I'm surprised I had enough time to even come to my daughters wedding!"

"That's why I'm retired now," Nico said; "The hours just about killed me. Fortunately, the police department has policies in place for that. I've been writing my grandmother's memoirs, and I had no idea she had lived such an interesting and intriguing life."

"Stefanie didn't want to write them herself?" asked Julia.

"She would have, but she's writing novels now," Nico said; "You've no doubt seen books by Charlotte Rush."

"I have, actually," Julia said; "Stefanie is Charlotte Rush? Wasn't that her name during the Occupation?"

"It was, yes," Nico replied; "But not everyone knows or remembers that, so that's why Nonna thought it was such a great pen name."

"One of my patients was reading one of her books," Julia said; "She told me she's read all of them and can't wait til the next one comes out."

Nico laughed. "That doesn't surprise me! I don't know where Nonna comes up with half the stuff she writes about!"

They talked for a while, then Julia asked where Nico was going to go to "get out of here for a while".

"I think I'll go to Hawaii," Nico said; "I've always wanted to go there, just to relax. Now that the wedding is over, I can just relax."

"I hope that you get to relax, Nico," Julia said. "Have a mai tai for me!"

"Will do!" Nico said, laughing as she and Julia parted.

When Nicoletta Nichols got to Hawaii, relaxing won't be the only thing on her agenda.

She would come face to face with her past.

===

"Wow, Cole, look at this room!" the newly married Rachel Summers Nichols said; "Your great grandma really outdid herself!"

"I kinda got a feeling she was going to do this when she asked me where I'd like to take you on a honeymoon," Cole said; "I jokingly said, 'a cruise to the Caribbean', and ta-da, here we are on a cruise to the Caribbean!"

"Too bad I look about 12," Rachel said as she unpacked her things to put them away for the three week cruise; "It'll look like you're taking your kid sister on a trip."

"Nonsense," Cole said as he wrapped his arms around his new bride; "So you're short. You look like a million bucks!"

"Watch, I'll get carded everytime we go into the casino, or to one of the shows onboard," Rachel said.

"I think everyone knows who your family is," Cole said; "I don't think they're going to sweat it much. I'd take my ID with me if I were you. Maybe I should take mine as well. We are only 18 you know."

"Fortunately, most things onboard are 18 and up," Rachel said. "I'm not really interested in the bar anyway. My family aren't big drinkers."

"Nor is mine, Rach, you know that," Cole said. "Now, c'mon Mrs. Nichols, lets get this honeymoon jazz off the ground."

"I thought you'd never ask," Rachel said as Cole began to undress her.

===

With another successful wedding under their belts, Sandy Springer and Danica Donovan-Costner breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Rachel made such a cute bride," Danica said.

"If she were here, and not on her way to Miami," Sandy said, "she'd so kill you over that remark. Still it was hard finding a dress for someone who isn't ever going to be five feet tall."

"At least we found that bridal shop in Milwaukee that specialized in wedding gowns for those between four-ten and five-three. I think Rachel was pleased," Danica said.

"It was a nice dress," Sandy agreed; "Rachel almost looked like an adult, and not like a preteen."

"Aunt Julia was probably the same way, if you think about it," Danica said.

"I don't think Aunt Julia had a traditional wedding," Sandy said; "I think Dad said that she and Uncle Ryan eloped, then didn't tell anyone for several months."

"Now THAT sounds like something Aunt Julia would do," Danica said, laughing. "She was something like 17 at the time."

"True," Sandy said, "but we both know Aunt Julia was never anything like 17 year olds now! She did graduate from high school at 15, like all her kids did."

"Then Rachel had to wait for Cole to finish school," Danica said; "I know that was hard for her."

"It was cute that Aaliyah caught the bouquet, then her boyfriend caught the garter," Sandy said; "Wonder how serious that relationship is, with Liyah's dad running for President and all."

"Looked pretty damn serious to me," Danica said; "Aunt Jas told me that those two seem made for each other."

"Maybe we should make plans to take care of them as well," Sandy said; "We should suggest it to Aunt Jas at some point."

"Not today," Danica said; "We need to get back to DC and make sure that Nikky and Winter haven't taken on more than they can handle."

"I wouldn't mind keeping Winter on permanently, he's been such a big help and rarely complains," Sandy said; "Wonder if we could talk him into it?"

"I think Winter likes working with Dad too much to give that up completely," Danica said. "Maybe as a summer position until he decides where he wants to go to school."

"How's Wyatt doing?" Sandy asked; "Winter said something about him showing some paintings later this month."

"In Bangor on the 31st," Danica said; "Wyatt is really talented as an artist. I'd love to see him study that in school. But he's only 14, he's got a little time."

===

Late July,  2044

Wyatt set up his paintings and sketches in the booth reserved for him at the Bangor Arts Festival. It was a festival within a festival for artists between 14 and 18 years old. Both of his parents were there to help. Tracy couldn't help but admire her son's talent. I wish I were half that talented, she often thought to herself.

Someone in the crowd of parents, artists, judges and the public was making Tracy feel uneasy. She'd caught a glimpse of someone who looked familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen them before. That person spend a lot of time looking at Wyatt's work. His badge said he was one of the judges. Donal Simpson was his name. The name wasn't known to Tracy, but he looked very familiar.

"That guy's a judge," Wyatt said to his mother. "He must be interested in my stuff. This is the fifth time he's been here since I've set things up."

"We'll soon find out, won't we?" Tracy said.

"Where's Dad?" asked Wyatt.

"He went to put the stuff you don't need back in the car," Tracy said; "He'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay." And Wyatt went back to scanning the crowd. He liked watching people in the way they interacted with each other. Wyatt wondered if there was something to his people watching that inspired his art.

He then saw the 15 year old boy who chatted him up when he first arrived in the exhibition hall. His name was Randy. He had a sister named Linda. The sister was cute;but Wyatt saw more in Randy than he thought he should.

And for the millionth time since he first became aware of it, Wyatt wondered if he was gay.

Wyatt knew he liked girls. There was a girl at school he really liked. But there were certain guys that Wyatt liked in the same way. Wyatt always brushed it off. But the feeling still nagged at him.

It was the one thing he couldn't tell his parents about, although he was sure they'd understand. He couldn't even tell Winter, though he'd also understand.

Wyatt didn't have any memories of the children's home that he and Winter were in before their parents adopted them. Perhaps that was a good thing.

But Wyatt was going to come face to face with a past he didn't remember, and his doubts about his choices would haunt him for months afterwards.

===

Nico landed in Hawaii about a week after the wedding of her son to Rachel Summers. She had a deadline to meet for her grandmother's memoirs, and once that was done, Nico was free to take as long a vacation as she wanted. She'd work on the memoirs some, since Stefanie had given her more documents to go through and hand written notes as to how she wanted her story told.

Nico had a briefcase full of things from her nonna's life, and she guarded those papers with the tenacity of a pitbull.

But even the life story of Stefanie Travetti took a back seat to the beauty that was Hawaii. And that just right after getting off the plane. She hadn't even been to her hotel yet.

Once she arrived at the hotel, Nico was floored. Nonna had paid for her trip, so Nico shouldn't have been surprised that Stefanie had booked her into the best hotel on the Big Island, but she was.

She walked up to the check in desk, gave her name, and almost immediately, bellmen came from out of nowhere to assist her getting to her room.

Her room was on the top floor under the penthouse. Only the owner of the hotel had access to that floor.

As she got settled, she thought about someone she hadn't seen in nearly a decade. It was his generosity that paid for the wedding of her daughter, Kit, and set up college funds for all three of her children. Each year on her birthday, the funds were replenished. Nico had nearly ten million dollars in a secret account that no one knew about. Not her children, her grandmother, nor any banker. It was all on a debit card that sat in Nico's safe deposit box in Chicago. For her trip to Hawaii, she transferred two million dollars of those funds to her personal debit card. Whatever didn't get used would be transferred back to the original account.

She set her briefcase on the nearby desk and looked out at the incredible view of the Pacific and thought of the man who made the last decade of her life easier because of his generosity, and the last time she saw him.

Nico felt the tears fall as she whispered, "Dammit, Eddie..."

And she wondered briefly if he was even still alive.

===

Edward Marshall went through the books of the hotel, like he did every month since he became the majority owner nearly a decade before.

He had made back his investment and thensome, and was very pleased that the hotel was doing well.

There was that unpleasant business of the accountant who was cooking the books to take care of her gambling debts from a few years before, but Marshall took care of that and started doing the books himself. If his grandfather taught him anything, it was to take responsibility for your own house. And Marshall did that.

Occasionally, when everything on his agenda was taken care of, he'd allow himself his one fantasy.

His green eyed angel.

Marshall never forgot Nicoletta Nichols and the kindnesses she showed him. He knew that she'd never be his. He'd broken a promise to her, and his self inflicted punishment was to live without her.

There were plenty of other beauties who wanted to be the woman at his side, but none of them measured up to the one he had to let get away. He decided that he'd rather be alone than to have anyone less than the former vice cop from Chicago.

A few weeks before, after not checking the online papers for stories about her for years, he found something of interest.

SUMMERS-NICHOLS
Julia R. Summers, M.D. announce the engagement of her daughter, Rachel Regina Summers, to Mr. Nicolas David Nichols. Mr. Nichols is the son of Nicoletta C. Nichols and the late Steven Nichols of Chicago. The couple will wed July nineteenth, at the home of the bride's family, J Bar R Ranch, in Belvidere, Illinois.

Marshall smiled. July 19th was about a week ago, he thought. I wonder where the newlyweds will honeymoon? 

He brought up the current list of guests and saw that a Nichols party was booked in a room the floor below the Penthouse. I wonder if that's them, thought Marshall. He then decided that it wasn't because Nichols was a common surname. It could be anyone, he reasoned.

He didn't realize that the Nichols in his hotel were not the newlyweds, but someone that Marshall would know on sight. Whether she'd recognize him, he had no idea.

The voice in his head came unbidden:

"Oh, God...Edward!"

===

CHAPTER FOUR

June, 2044

Nearly six months after the death of his grandfather, Winter Donovan was still consumed with a desire for revenge. This had his parents worried. Joe was convinced that Winter was going to do something based on emotion and not on his training.

They had talked to him on several occasions about this, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Winter was stubborn and headstrong, and his parents recognized that when he was still a little boy.

When an opportunity to visit his sister Danica in Washington, DC came up, Joe suggested that Winter take advantage of the invitation. "You'll get to know your new niece, and Briana will probably drag you to her soccer games," Joe said.

"But Wyatt wanted me to help him with some of his art projects, Dad," Winter protested.

"Wyatt does most of his painting alone in his room, Winter. He says he thinks better when he's left alone," said Joe.

"I think he meant when he showed them in that show in July," Winter said; "Since I can drive and can transport his stuff to Bangor for him."

"Oh, I can do that, Winter,"  Joe said; "You go to Washington and have a good time. Maybe Danica will put you to work in the shop since Vixen left for spook training last week. Nikky probably wants another guy around to shoot the bull with anyway."

Winter had to admit that was a good idea, and he hadn't seen Nikky since Christmas. It might even be fun.

===

Jaime felt something she hadn't felt since she and Jared married three years before.

That she was being watched. Again.

Oh come on, she thought to herself as she put her daughter Serenity down for a nap, I thought this was over and done with.

She pulled the light blanket up over her 13 month old daughter and turned on her night light.

Serenity was a surprise pregnancy. Jaime had been on birth control because she and Jared were in grad school and didn't plan on having babies right away. Then she found out that she was expecting and decided that this was the way to go. Jaime was able to keep up with her Vet School studies, and the following year, would take the state veterinary exam.

Veterinary school was paid for, thanks to her mother's companion Jack Coltrane. When he died when Jaime was 13, he provided the funds for her schooling in his will. There were even enough funds so that Jaime wouldn't have to work during her schooling if she didn't want to. She did, and did so until Serenity arrived, but for the last year, she was a full time mom and a full time student.

Jaime was always amazed when she looked at her daughter. Serenity inherited the Summers red hair, and looked a lot like the Terranova side of her grandmother's family. She had Jared's hazel eyes and almost no freckles. Her parents fell instantly in love with their little ginger princess.

Serenity was trying to talk, and said some real words from time to time.  Her first real words were "Mama", Dada" and "Nonna". Jaime was happy with that.

But this being watched thing? Jaime thought that was uncalled for, especially since she had no idea who would be watching her. Now that she had a child, Jaime was even more concerned. It wasn't just about her anymore. Nor was it about her and Jared. It was about Serenity's safety. Jaime wanted her daughter to have a comfortable, stress free life to just be a little girl with parents who adored her, and an extended family who cherished her very existance.

Jaime decided that she would get to the bottom of this nonsense. Find out who had been following her, why they were following her, and take them out if need be. It wasn't for her peace of mind. It was for Serenity.

The person who had been following her since she was 13 years old had other plans for her, and could care less what Jaime thought. Jaime would find out in one of the worst ways possible.

Jaime didn't realize it, but she was in real danger. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

===

Late June, 2044

Winter had been in Washington, DC, for about a week, going to his niece's soccer matches, playing with Kendra, who was almost six months old; and working at It's Your Day Wedding Planners helping his cousin Nikky with all the grunt work. Winter liked  hanging out with Nikky, but found the work a little boring. It was a complete one-eighty from working on the Danica Antonia.  And he had no trouble telling Nikky so.

"Well, you certainly have the muscles to do that kind of work," Nikky said, "and I know that this isn't anything like lobster fishing. You do a good job at it. Maybe I should do a summer on your dad's boat."

"No offense, Nik, but you'd last about half a day on the boat," Winter said.

"None taken, Winter," Nikky said; "I'm a strong guy, but I'd probably have to be doing that my whole life to be even half as good as you are. You're built like a fuckin' tank. I know my limits, and that would probably exceed them. I'll stick to handling weapons and the occasional boxes of flowers that come through here. I have other plans for my life. I don't intend to be working at It's Your Day forever."

"What do you want to do?" Winter asked.

"I'm trying to get work doing what I studied in college, and that was economics," Nikky said. "I want to start my own business like Danica and Sandy did. But I want to get the basics down first. My academic background suggests that I'd be a good businessman. I've been doing the books for It's Your Day for about a year now with Danica's help. We make some serious coin here."

"I'll bet," Winter said. "People get married every day!"

"This is true, and Danica and Sandy fill that need by taking the arranging out of the hands of the bride and/or her family and do it themselves. Some brides, especially here in DC, just don't have the time or patience to do it. And Sandy knows that, like my twin sister, I'm going to want to do my own thing at some point."

"I have no idea what I want to do after high school," Winter said. "Part of me wants to stay on the boat and help Dad out, especially since Grandpa Frank is gone; and part of me wants to go to college and study something."

"What's your passion?"

Winter didn't even have to think about it. "My passion is to find the bastards who want my father and my family dead and send them straight to hell."

===

"Dad, is Mom going to be okay?" Mary Grace Peters asked her father, Chris.

"Mom's pretty tough, MG," Chris Peters said, "so I think she'll be just fine. Just a setback from the surgery to fix her shoulder. It happens sometimes."

"So I shouldn't call Jessikah and have her come home?" Mary Grace asked.

"I've called your sister and gave her an update," Chris said; "If she's needed here, I'll call her. She's doing important work for Jere Donovan's Presidential campaign."

"Dad, I know that," Mary Grace said, slightly annoyed. She hated that her parents seemed to be keeping things from her. Like how sick her mother really was. She was certain that they told her twin sister Jessikah a whole hell of a lot more than they told her.

Chris saw the change in his younger daughter's demeanor. She still thinks we think she's stupid, he thought. She's got freakin degrees in biology and chemistry. She graduated Summa Cum Laude! She's hardly stupid!

If he thought about it, if he had said anything about Rebekah's shoulder injury, it would have probably been his anger that her surgeons prescribed an opiate for the pain, knowing Rebekah's past drug abuse. That's what put her back in the hospital after surgery, not a complication from the surgery itself. Rebekah had a bad reaction to the medicine, recognized it as such, and checked herself into rehab before it became a full blown addiction. Something, Chris realized, that Mary Grace would know had he not kept the entire truth from both her and Jessikah.

"MG, Mom's going to be fine, and you know as much as Jessikah knows," Chris said.

Mary Grace only sighed. She knew her father was lying, but why, she had no idea.

===

"Mmm, Ms. Massengill, you'll be a fine specimen to practice on," he said as he followed the tall, dark haired woman from the MARC station to the commuter parking lot. "You're the same size, shape, and height as my pet. And when I'm done practicing on you, I'll make sure you'll never squeal. Your poor children will be without a mother and your husband's family will have to take them in. Poor, poor Jessikah Massengill..."

He watched as the woman got into her car and drove out of the parking lot to her home in Arlington, where her young children waited for her. He knew she was a single parent, her husband dying during a military exercise in the Middle East just two years before. Her children would have no first hand knowledge of their father. No memories of him would be in their minds.

And if he played his cards right, they wouldn't remember their mother, either.

His thoughts turned, as they always did, to the redhead he fancied. He knew that she and Jessikah were cousins. He was waiting for just the right moment to put his plans in motion. He knew it would take a while.

Meanwhile,  there was another waiting for him in the barn on his ranch in the Virginia countryside. He was almost done with her, as her usefulness to him had just about played out. When she was as used up as she could get, he would make sure no one ever knew about their little games.

She would join the others, with families who will forever wonder what happened to their daughters.

===

Serenity Walters decided that today was the day she was going to show Mommy and Daddy she could walk. She'd been practicing in her bedroom when she should have been taking a nap. Mommy and Daddy didn't know she figured out how to get out of her crib.

Today was the day.

"Mama..." she said, getting her mother's attention. Jaime was surprised to see her little ginger princess standing up in the middle of the living room.

"Looks like someone is getting ready to walk, Mama," Jared said as he came into the room.

"Serenity, come to Mama," Jaime said.

Serenity squealled happily, then took a first tentative step. Then a second; and a third.

Jaime sat on the floor, waiting for Serenity to make it all the way to her lap.

Serenity would take three or four steps, stop, then take more. Soon, she was just a couple of steps away from her mother's lap.

"C'mon Serenity," Jared said from behind his wife; "You can do it, princess."

With a great squeal, Serenity took the final steps and collapsed into her mother's lap laughing.

"Wow, Serenity!" Jaime said; "What a big girl you are! That deserves a cookie, doesn't it, Daddy?"

"Sure does!" Jared said.

Serenity knew about cookies. Cookies were good things to eat. She got back up on her feet and followed Daddy into the kitchen with her mother right behind her.

Soon she was sitting on her booster seat, her sippy cup of milk on the table, and two cookies on a little plate.

She held up one cookie and said, "Cookie!" before she devoured it.

Her parents sat at the table with her, watching her enjoy her cookies. Later, Jaime would call Nonna Julia and tell her that Serenity could walk.

===

Julia wasn't sure about the whole idea of writing a book about her life.

She wondered what she could say that hadn't already been written about, gossipped about, speculated about. And there were definitely some things she'd never mention in a book about her life.

That she was the dreaded SpineSplitter from the Occupation that ended when she was 19 years old.

That her oldest daughter was fathered by man other than her husband.

That to this day, she could pick up a weapon and kill an enemy without remorse, then go back to her patients at the hospital trying to save their lives.

The number of people who wanted to write Julia's story, and the stories of her brothers and sisters in arms, would stretch around the perimeter of her property several times.

Each time she was asked, her answer was a resounding "NO!" There was no way in hell that she would allow someone else to write a book about her life. If her story was going to get told, she, and only she, would be the one to tell it.

But at 44 years old, she wasn't sure if it was time to tell it. Julia often thought that she'd take her secrets to the grave with her.

I wish people would give it a rest, Julia thought as she left the house to go to the hospital and work her usual twelve hour shift. Rachel was the only one of her children still at home, and she could take care of anything that came up at the house.

All four-feet-eleven inches of her.

That girl is going to cause Cole Nichols some major league headaches, Julia thought.

The idea that they were going to get married didn't sit well with her. Julia thought they were both too young.

"Said she who got married at 17," Julia said aloud.

Julia Summers knew that Rachel was not an ordinary 18 year old; and Cole Nichols knew it, too. Cole's mother, Nico, was okay with the idea. She knew what kind of man her son was. He could handle marriage, college, and Rachel's prowess with weaponry. Plus they were in love and mature enough to see their way to a happy life together.

Not many 18 year olds could say that, Julia thought. She then sighed.

When did my children grow up? she said to herself.

===

"Winter, think about what you're saying!" Nikky said, shocked by Winter's statement; "In order to get that kind of revenge, you need more training, you need to keep your emotions in check, and you're not doing that. That will get you killed!"

Winter only looked at Nikky, nearly seven years older than him, and knew he was right.

"What do I do?" he asked. "I don't want to cause my family any more grief."

"First, you need to get your ass in college," Nikky said; "find something you want to do for the rest of your life, and study the shit out of it. Then, if you still want to be trained to be the best sniper out there, my mom has tons of contacts in the spook community. That's how Vixen got into spook school. Now you're just too young. You're good, if what your sister says is so, but you're only 16 fucking years old. Take the time to be a kid. This isn't the Occupation, Winter. When the time is right, after the people who killed your grandfather have forgotten about him, then go after them hard. I'll back you up, but now, you have to decide on what to do from here. You're an intelligent kid. Go to college and get the education your intellect craves."

"I do kinda want to study oceanography, like my dad did," Winter said; "Even my grandfather said I should, because of all the questions I asked Dad when I was a little kid. Maybe see if there's a way to keep our livelihood alive, because we have to go further and further out to find lobsters. Once they're gone, they're gone."

"Maybe Marine Biology and Oceanography would get that done for you," Nikky said. "You'll probably take over from your dad one day, and if there's no lobsters because the waters are overfished, then your family's business will go under. I can see that from an economic standpoint."

Winter nodded. "You have some good points there, Nik. Thanks for the pep talk. I think I needed to hear that from someone other than my parents."

Nikky patted his cousin on the back and said, "Glad to be of help, Winter."

===