A Dream Come True

1.

Drugs are my life. As a pharmacist for 20 years, I thought I had seen everything there was to see. On Tuesday night, October 27, 1998, I found, to my delight and surprise, that I was wrong.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon, and I had given my deliveryman the rest of the day off to go to a Halloween play in which his little girl was to sing. Although I had never heard of a Halloween play or Halloween songs, I didn’t question Frank’s intentions. He had worked for me for nine years and was of strong character. A little short on brainpower, he more than made up for his slow wit through trustworthiness, and he was as reliable as the sunrise.

He was a single parent and I was eager to please him by granting him a few hours off work. I figured I could make a few deliveries myself on the way home.

Kate Raymond was a great customer. She had severe back problems resulting in two major surgeries in the last two years. She had to take a wide range of pain medication to help her recover from her most recent surgery in January. I had noticed by her records that her physician had gradually reduced the dosages and she was taking about half the medication she took right after the surgery. She never asked for special treatment, although I would have jumped at the chance to provide it.

Kate was a widow in her early forties. She was a five-foot tall blonde with a face and build that simply gripped my attention every time I saw her. I suppose she noticed my furtive glances, but she didn’t return them. Her husband had died about a year ago in a skydiving accident. Although I wanted to pursue her, I thought she would return my interest with a little flirting when and if she was ready.

She called me at 4:00 to refill a prescription and needed it delivered that evening. I told her I would be happy to deliver it myself at about 7 p.m., the last stop before home. I could tell when her voice softened a little that she was glad I would be coming by.

I closed shop at six and made three deliveries. At 7:00, I knocked on Kate’s door and prepared to make my last delivery. Kate answered the door quickly.

“Hi, Steve” she cooed in a voice so mellow I thought I could feel it flowing into my ears. She was dressed in a silk blouse and a dark skirt cut just above the knees. I could see that the skirt had a slit up to mid-thigh. She wore dark nylons and moderate heels. She looked outstanding.

Kate had a wireless telephone at her ear and asked me “Can you please wait a minute? This is an important call I’ve been awaiting for three days! The liquor cabinet is right there. Just help yourself and relax on the patio for a few minutes, OK?”

She turned and confidently walked down the hall and turned left, out of sight, continuing her conversation, not waiting for my answer. She knew she didn’t have to wait for one.

Accompanied by her husband, we had met socially at parties and business meetings through the years. She knew I liked Bushmill’s Irish Whiskey, neat. I wasn’t surprised when I opened the liquor cabinet and there was a full bottle and a cocktail glass, easily within reach. I gladly poured myself a short shot, closed the cabinet and looked about.

Her one-story home was neat, clean and very classy. Strauss chandeliers adorned the living and dining rooms. The fireplace was glowing and I could smell rich incense, probably jasmine, burning on the mantelpiece. The carpet was white with red insets and the furniture was brass and glass. The liquor cabinet was in a large oak wall unit that held her stereo system and television. I was surrounded by the soulful sound of classic Aretha Franklin pumping from several directions.

On the other side of the living room, I could see the wide patio door, slid open with the screen closed. I strolled out onto the wide patio. It was bordered on the back by a low masonry wall topped by bricks. The property dropped downhill on the other side of the wall to a drainage channel. Below were neighboring houses, obscured by trees and gardens. It was peaceful and the sun had just set. The sky was clear and I could see stars twinkling between the slats of the massive ramada overhead. I took a sip of whiskey and felt it flow to my stomach and spread comfortably through my abdomen and chest. I sat in a nearby patio chair and wondered what lay in store for the evening.

2.

I had left open the vertical blinds in front of the sliding glass door between the patio and bedroom, giving a clear, unobstructed view from the patio chair I had left purposely in perfect viewing position, about ten feet from the door. I kept chatting on the telephone, although all I could hear was a dial tone. I had come to the moment of truth. My stomach tumbled and I was shaking a little, but a four-ounce vodka martini I had just finished gave me the courage I needed to continue the drama. I already had all the confidence I needed.

I had arranged it all. It was my show. I was the director, producer and star. I had called Frank Warren a week ago and asked him to take the afternoon off today. I offered him $50 for the favor and told him to make up a reason. Frank said he would do the favor out of friendship, but would not take my money. Frank said I had tipped him very generously and that it was the least he could do. He didn’t ask for an explanation, nor do I think he really cared. It would give him a good excuse to catch up on daytime television.

Frank and I went way back, long before he worked at Steve Silver’s Pharmacy. I first met him 15 years ago. I was selling premium cable TV packages, door-to-door, and Frank was a TV freak. He had heard the local cable system was expanding their system and couldn’t wait to snap-up two dozen channels. His delivery job at Silver’s was a perfect fit for him and, because of my health problems, we saw each other now and again when he delivered my prescriptions.

Although I felt good, I knew I still needed drugs to feel human. I kept reasonably fit and watched my weight. I missed my husband Jim terribly. I had gotten used to living alone since his death last year, but the surgery and recovery were very difficult without his constant support and attention. I was just to the point of recovery where I could bend and turn a little.

Jim and I could be classified as closet exhibitionists. We enjoyed doing naughty things where there was a chance we might be seen, and a few times, we were. Nothing ever came of it and it was quite exciting for both of us.

We used to play-out fantasies, too. Our favorites were “Zorro and the Maiden” and “The Movie Director and the Porn Star”. I missed our sex and, over the last month, I had masturbated several times, fantasizing about our past. Actually, I was starting to enjoy the masturbation quite a bit.

I had masturbated for Jim many times (his favorite was me standing over his face and masturbating while he looked up at me and masturbated). Now it was the only sex I had and I was getting good at it. I had two favorite vibrators, one with a classic shape and smaller size, black with a gold tip, and one shaped like a finger, especially useful for anal stimulation.

I was ready for something exotic, but I wanted to make it wild and exciting. Steve Silver was just an acquaintance. I had met him a few times, but had never thought of him sexually until he starred in a nighttime dream last week. I never remember much of dreams, but I awoke thinking about him and those thoughts turned into passionate fantasies over the next few days. I decided to act.

I knew Steve drank Bushmill’s, so I bought a bottle for the liquor cabinet. I went shopping and bought a new blouse and skirt, and made a stop at Frederick’s of Hollywood for the more basic essentials.

That afternoon, Steve answered the call himself, just like I knew he would, and told me Frank was off for the afternoon but that he could make the delivery on his way home, at about seven. My plan was working perfectly.

I decided to use the “telephone dodge” to get him into the right place at the right time. He knocked on the door at exactly seven (Steve was always punctual) and I asked him in to wait a moment while I finished an important telephone conversation. I told him to fix a drink and relax on the patio. I turned and walked away, not giving him a chance to answer and trying not to give away my excitement.

Now he was there, he had just taken a seat in the chair I had so carefully placed. I knew this would be the turning point. I had to be smooth, get his attention, and then set the hook. Like I said, I had the confidence, liquor beat down any inhibitions, and it was show time.

3.

It was just as if I had sat down in a movie theater with a wide-screen view. I saw Kate stroll into her bedroom and slowly pace around the bed, talking on the telephone. I was startled at first, and my leg muscles tightened and began to lift me from the chair. But they quickly relaxed and I settled back. My libido and voyeuristic nature had overcome my surprise. The sliding glass door was closed, so I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the lights were on and I could see clearly.

The bedroom was of moderate size. I could see a vanity on the wall to the right. There was a six-foot walkway and then the foot of the bed. The head of the bed was against the wall to the left. The entrance to the bedroom was to the far right corner. The remainder of the back wall was a closet with mirrored sliding doors. In those doors I could see the remaining wall I could not see directly. Against that wall was a dresser and a lamp in the left corner. The headboards and footboards of the bed were white, ornate tubing resembling a design a blacksmith might make with wrought iron. Painted-porcelain ornaments adorned the bedposts and a comforter in a white duvet covered the bed.

I continued to watch her stroll about the bedroom, smiling and laughing as she talked on the telephone. I decided I never could be lucky enough to get a view into this window while Kate did some exotic dance or such. I had been a voyeur since I was twelve, when I first peeked into the keyhole of the bathroom door to see what was really between my 17 -year old sister’s legs. The best I could tell was that she had an ample growth of pubic hair, but I never saw any details.

I peeked into the neighbors upstairs windows, into the “girl next door’s” bedroom. The best I got there was a brief look at her bare ass when she accidentally brushed the curtains aside when she pulled off some clothing.

At every chance, whenever there was the possibility of seeing without being seen, I took it. I’m sure I’ve spent a couple of thousand hours waiting for the moment that never came in over thirty years of trying.

In college, I had a view into 18 different rooms of two all-girl dormitories across the street. My two roommates and me kept binoculars nearby. We even had numbered the windows so we could call-out the location of activity and a potential flesh-flash quickly. Although we all bragged about having seen this girl or that girl do one thing or another, we never saw anything anyone else could verify. I believe the dean of women interviewed each girl before assigning her to a dorm room. Those who would qualify for “Religious Training for Virgins” would get a room with windows that opened toward boy’s dormitories. In two years, I never saw more than a fat girl pull her sweater over her head to reveal her bra, then walk away.

Although an admitted voyeur, I never went out of my way to create peeping opportunities. I didn’t choose apartments or homes based on views into other buildings. I didn’t go about at night dressed in dark clothes and hide in bushes. I thought that was far too dangerous and even perverted. If I could see something without breaking the law, then great.

I also have always had a penchant for daytime exhibitionism. I could control daytime flashing in the home. I would leave doors or drapes open and strategically place lights so someone could see in. If a woman or girl passed by or came to the door, I would be naked, masturbating in a place where she might see me. This was all very exiting, but never amounted to a full-on sexual encounter or even a stare. I guess I wanted the excitement but not the cost of being labeled a pervert by the neighbors or business community. That would have been far too great a price to pay for a moment of sexual excitement.

It took about 10 long minutes for Kate to finish her conversation. She put down the telephone on the vanity, walked to the closet, slid open the left-side door and sorted through a few house robes. She pulled out a green one, laid it across the foot of the bed and slid the closet door closed. She stood at the end of the bed and unzipped her skirt.

I wondered if Kate might have forgot I was there! Yes, that must be it! She surely wasn’t going to undress for me. Why would she do that? She must have forgotten!

She slipped off the skirt, folded it and laid it on the vanity. Next, off came the black slip to reveal her nylons. She didn’t wear a garter belt. She wore what looked like panty hose with large openings at the front, sides and back. Suspender hose, I think they call them. Her black panties were very sheer. As she undressed, I saw a direct rear view and could see a front view in the closet-door mirrors. The sight of the crack of her ass and dark pussy hair through her panties gave me an instant erection, although the tail of her blouse hid most of the view.

She was looking up slightly, as if she was deep in thought, and began unbuttoning her blouse, the cuffs first and then the front, from the uppermost button. She undid the last button, opened the blouse, slid it down her shoulders, and stopped with her hands behind her. She had caught her own attention in the mirror and twisted slightly back and forth.

She wore a sheer bra through which I could just see her areolas. I could also tell her breasts were full and her bras needed no padding. She slid the blouse the rest of the way off, opened the closet door, hung the blouse neatly and slid the door closed.

By then, all she wore was a black sheer bra, black sheer panties, black very sheer one-piece suspender panty hose, red shoes with moderate heels, dangling silver earrings, a choker pearl necklace, a gold band bracelet on the left wrist, a gold watch on her right wrist, two rings on each hand, and silver-framed glasses, moderately tinted. Her immaculately styled blonde hair topped off this perfect image.

I drank down the rest of the Bushmill’s, rested my left hand on my cock, and squeezed it through my trousers. I felt a little spurt of precum squirt from my cock into my jockeys. It probably left a telltale wet spot on my trousers, but I was too engrossed to look, nor did I really care.

4.

I had just finished the opening act. I knew the next act would be the one that would determine how the still-unwritten third act would play out. I looked back up into the makeup mirror I had placed above the closet, hidden from Steve’s sight. I couldn’t see his face, of course, but I could see him from the chest down. He was massaging his cock through his pants!

It was time to go from naughty to erotic. I decided to take off my rings, bracelet and watch. Given the excitement I felt, I might forget about them and hurt myself a little later. I walked over to the vanity, to the end nearest the window, took off the jewelry and started putting it away. The easily recognizable guitar riffs of John Cougar Mellenkamp’s “Hurts so Good” began through the bedroom speakers. I slowly began to dance. You know, the dancing you do in-place from the waist down, when you’re doing something else.

As I put the last ring away, I increased the movement to the rhythm and danced in front of the vanity mirror. Here, Steve was to my right and I could watch myself in the mirror that Steve couldn’t see. I must admit, the time I spent earlier in the day at the beauty shop paid off. I was looking so good, I turned myself on.

The loose sheer bra allowed by breasts to shake and sway with the dance. I moved to enhance the motion. I stepped and moved so Steve got a view from every angle, but kept my gaze in the mirror. I started running my hands over my torso. I slowly cupped by breasts, then moved my hands in small circles down to my tummy. I just grazed my pussy and lightly caressed the inside of my thighs. I danced over to the mirror in the closet doors. That’s where Steve could see me from two angles at once. I could also glance into my spy mirror to keep tabs on my audience.

John Mellankamp closed out his delightful song, then as programmed, ZZ Top stepped in with “Legs” and would follow with “Sharp Dressed Man.” I felt great. I was ready to continue the strip tease. I made sure I was in the right spot for the best view, reached to the center of my back and unhooked my bra. I let the straps slide down my arms while I danced and my tits sprang free. It was glorious. I flung the bra onto the vanity and began massaging my tits. My nipples were hard and the pair stood out like they were begging for more.

I stopped in the perfect place, spread my legs a little, lifted both breasts, one cupped in each hand, dipped my head as close as I could to my chest, and slowly ran my tongue from close to my right collar bone down my right breast to the nipple and sucked it

gently, letting my teeth graze it a little. I repeated the action on my left side. I could feel my pussy getting damp. I closed my eyes and continued the breast massage briefly; I looked in the spy mirror and was gratified to see Steve’s cock out of his pants. It was standing straight up and I could see how it curved. He had one hand on his balls and used the index finger of the other to gently rub the very top of his cock. I wasted not a moment to expose myself to him.

5.

I could hear the stereo through the still-open living room patio door. Just as ZZ started “Legs” I unzipped by trousers, reached into my jockeys and pulled out my cock. It was dripping wet. As I saw Kate unhook her bra, I used the first two fingers of my left hand to gently massage my prostate gland between my balls and ass hole. As she threw the bra aside, I felt another spurt of precum squirt out. When she took a sexy pose and licked her tits, I began spreading the wealth of precum over the head of my cock with the first two fingers of my right hand.

Kate continued massaging her tits while she had her eyes closed. It looked like she was fantasizing about sex and, yes God, please make it so, was going to continue the massage between her legs. I gently gripped my cock with my right hand and began slowly stroking it up and down while barely increasing the pressure of my prostate massage. I moved my hips slightly to the beat of the music. I was ecstatic.

As Kate continued her dance, she put both hands between her legs, put the index fingers of each hand into her panties from the side and started massaging her cunt. She watched herself intently in the closet-door mirror and began exaggerating the back-and-forth motion of her hips in dance. She was so hot I thought I could see steam between her legs. Through her panties, I could see that she was massaging her clit and cunt lips. My mouth began to water.

I watched as she slid her panties over her hips, one hand on each side. As the panties passed her hips, the crotch snapped from between her legs and the panties fell around her ankles. She stepped out of them and never missed a beat, continuing her dance. Her pussy hair was neat and not too thick. I think she must have trimmed it recently. Her naked shape was incredible. Her tits were firm, nipples hard, and even when her legs were together or she took a step, I could see the gap between her legs. Now, with only the suspender pantyhose, shoes and a little jewelry, she was simply outstanding.

She danced to the vanity, bent at the waist and opened the top left drawer. She withdrew from the drawer a tube, a jar and two vibrators. The tube looked liked KY Jelly and the jar was definitely petroleum jelly. One vibrator was beige with a long thin extension on the end that looked like a finger. The other had a gold tip and black body, but was smaller than the vibrators I usually see in adult stores and catalogues.

Cheyenne looked at her shaking hands in her lap “Alright you have a deal.” She told him not looking at him. She would work with him until she had her answer, besides Hank will be home soon, she thought to herself, it will be ok. She tried hard to reassure herself.

That night as Ralph and Cheyenne sat on the front porch they watched the car lights that came up the drive way, Ralph wagged his tail as Roger walked up to the porch, Cheyenne looked at Ralph. “You are a dumb dog.” Cheyenne said standing up to greet him as he came up the steps.

” Hi Roger, would you like some coffee?” she asked trying very hard to be polite to him and fighting the pain of the old wounds that had not healed from their relationship.

He smiled at Cheyenne and patted Ralph on the head.

” Thank you that sounds good.” He said thinking to him self how she still looked great even in an over sized gray sweat shirt and jeans without shoes just socks.” I feel over dressed now that I see how comfortable you look.” He said following her into the house.

“I”ll fix the coffee, Sit down at the dinning room table that will probably be best for us to use.” She said as she pointed at the rustic table with a white table cloth, the chairs were wooded high backs with white cushions that tied to the back of the chair.

As they sat for an hour going over each others notes Cheyenne looked at the window as she saw lightening streak through the sky.” Looks as if a storm is brewing out there.” She said as she placed her chin on her fist as she read the papers. “These women just vanished? God what is he doing with them?” she looked at Roger knowing in her heart they had to be dead.

“All we know is he strikes every three weeks and this is the third week.” He said sipping his coffee.

Cheyenne read the notes and quickly went to the kitchen grabbing her calendar looking at each month and date the women disappeared.” They all disappeared on the third Thursday and tomorrow is Thursday Roger.” Her eyes were showing panic as she realized tomorrow another woman would disappear.

“We know, we have set up more security around the shopping centers and parking areas.” he said as he swallowed the cookie he was eating.

The phone rang Cheyenne knew it would be Hank calling in since in another hour he would have to call Mrs. Harrelson. Cheyenne picked Up the phone smiling.

“Hello baby!” her voice was so cheerful even though she missed him so much. “Have you heard anything?” she asked him as she played with the hem of her sweat shirt.

Roger tried to concentrate on the papers in front of him but he couldn”t, it still hurt to hear her saying I love you and I miss you to someone else. He clinched his fist for he knew he was the one who screwed up the relationship not her. Damn if she only knew how sorry I was. He thought to himself. He heard his name mentioned in their conversation looking up at Cheyenne.

“He is only here so we can work on this case with out me having to reveal our client at this time.” Her voice was agitated as she spoke to Hank. “Well you”re going to have to trust me, even if you don”t trust him Hank.” Cheyenne looked at the floor as she played with the phone cord.” I love you too baby, good night & sweet dreams.”

Those words tore through Rogers heart, he looked away to hide the tears. “I need to use your rest room.” He said as he quickly got up from the table.

“It”s down the hall way to your right.” Cheyenne pointed in the direction of the rest room she sensed a change in his attitude.

Cheyenne watched the lightening dance across the sky from the window she noticed the wind was blowing stronger; the lights started flickering in the house great we are going to lose the electric she thought. Ralph sat next to Cheyenne.” Its ok boy.” She said patting him.

Roger came down the hall way the lights went out.” Hope you have candles or a flash light.” He said as he made his way back to the table.

“Both as luck would have it.” She told him as she felt her way into the kitchen.

She lit the candlewick watching the trees bending in the wind, damn this is a bad storm hitting us, she thought as she grabbed the portable radio. She walked back out to Roger sitting at the table. “Ah light.” He said with a smile.

“This storm is bad Roger I think we should listen to the radio. “She said as she sat back down at the table.

“At least we”re inside instead of being caught outside in it.” He said as the thunder began to shake the windows.

They looked at the radio as the DJ came on with a storm warning.

” We are asking everyone to seek cover we are in a severe thunder storm with sightings of three tornados, it”s expected to last until three am.” The DJ reported over the radio.

Roger and Cheyenne looked at each other knowing they would be spending the duration of the night together in the same house.

“You can sleep in the guest room tonight.” She said feeling strange knowing he would be under the same roof with her.

“Thank you, but if it will be a problem I can try to make it home.” He told her knowing she would not send him out into the storm.

“Don”t be silly, we”re two adults and should be able to stay under the same roof.” She told him as the strange feeling grew stronger with each word. “I hope Hank tells me that Mr. Harrelson went on his trips on different days then when the women disappeared.” She said trying to change the subject.

“Has he found out anything from the trip?” Roger asked as he watched Cheyenne in the candle light, she looks so angelic, he thought to himself.

“Yes on each trip Mr. Harrelson was accompanied by a woman, but the clerk couldn”t be sure if it was any of the women in the news paper clippings that Hank showed him.” She told him.

He smiled to him self. “When he calls back tell him I will fax over a better photo of the victims.” He told her knowing this would be a stall tactic to keep Hank away for a little longer.

“Alright I will tell him when he calls back.” She told him knowing that Hank would be calling her back since he knew Roger was there with her. “What about tomorrow? He is going to strike again you know.” She told him looking scared.

“We”ve done all we can do Cheyenne, increasing security is the best we could do, besides hoping and praying that your guy will be ID so we can nail him before he strikes again.” He told her, he felt helpless in preventing the abduction from taking place.

Roger watched Cheyenne twirling her hair in her fingers as she sat at the table with her feet up in the chair and one arm wrapped around her legs watching the lightening light up the sky, the song came on she will leave you smiling by George Straight. She sure will, he thought as he watched her as they sat in silence.

Hank finally called back with out any new information from Mrs. Harrelson, she couldn”t be sure if it was Thursday when Mr. Harrelson went on his trips, she just knew it was around the same time of the month. This made sense to Roger since he could have abducted them and left the next day.

“Cheyenne this could have been our house if you hadn”t left me.” He said taking a deep breath.

Cheyenne laughed.” Oh please! You were to busy being the big player then being into a commitment! I was not the only woman in our relationship and you didn”t even try to hide them! That is how arrogant you are! “She said trying not to lose her cool completely with him.

“You must still have feelings for me Cheyenne, because you”re still so angry at me.” He said smugly.

“No woman likes to be made a fool of and treated like yesterdays left over.” She said sitting straight up with her feet now on the floor.

“You were always first with me; I never took the other ones around my friends.” He told her sounding so serious.

Cheyenne looked at him with a look of pity.” You really believe that bull**** your running through your head don”t you?” she asked him as she could almost see a child like quality inside of him.” I am going to go to bed now. ” She said as she turned to go to her room.

The storm was getting worse as Cheyenne laid in her bed watching how it lit up the entire room with its brilliant flashes until she fell into a deep sleep.

Roger tossed and turned all night knowing that she was in the same house, and not in his arms. If I could only do it all over again I would still have her. He thought to him self. Roger drifted off to sleep when Ralph jumped up on the bed next to him. Roger looked at the dog.

” Don”t hog the covers, and no snoring or you”re gone.” He said putting his arm around Ralph.

Hank lay in his hotel room bed with thoughts of Cheyenne and the love they have together. He wondered how she was sleeping alone without him beside her, or was Roger sleeping in their bed with her. He looked at the clock it was two o”clock in the morning, he smashed the bottle of beer next to his bed and rolled over.

Cheyenne was awakened the next morning by Ralph”s barking outside the house, she sleepily got out of bed to look out the window to see what the commotion was all about. Looking out the window she saw Ralph barking at Roger as he chopped up the fallen tree from the night before. “How nice of him, but it won”t work Roger.” She said to herself as she watched him stack the tree up neatly by the road for the sanitation department to remove it.

She decided to jump in the shower while he was busy outside. She stepped into the hot shower water; it felt so refreshing to her. she hated it when she had to step out of the shower, she put on her long white terry cloth robe, wrapped her hair in a white towel, she walked to her closet where she picked out a long blue jean skirt that rested on her hips, with a wide black suede belt with long fringe hanging from each end, a purple and black peasant shirt that hung off her shoulders slightly with suede black boots that were just below her knee. She wore her blond hair down with just the sides pulled up. She looked at herself in the mirror pleased with her outfit. “Not bad for a forty five year old woman.” She said going to the kitchen where she found fresh made coffee, and a piece of breakfast cake waiting for her at the table with a white rose and note which had written, I am sorry for last night Cheyenne. A smile actually came to her face as she softly touched the flower with her finger tips.

Cheyenne began her morning with a cup of coffee, she smiled with a slight chuckle” You”re only sorry Roger because you didn”t get me in the bed with you .” She said as she sat at the kitchen table when she heard the front door shut knowing it must be Ralph and Roger coming in.

” Good morning Cheyenne.” Roger said as he and Ralph came into the kitchen. “We are going to have to go by my place so I can shower and change.” He told her as he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee.

“I will just meet you at the station Roger.” She said as she sipped her coffee.

“That is impossible since your car also had a tree sitting on it.” He told her pouring some more coffee into his cup.

“No, not my car, you”re kidding right?” She asked as she searched his face for some kind of a sign saying it was all a joke.

“Your car Cheyenne, so you better call your insurance company.” He told her sipping on his coffee.

Cheyenne got up from the table “Damn it!” she said as she ran out of the house to check on her car. She could not believe it when she saw it the tree was sitting on top of her car just as he said it was.

“Why didn”t we get two cars when we were going to?” She said looking at the car.

“We need to get going Cheyenne if we are going to try and stop this guy today.” Roger told her.

“Ok let”s go.” She said as they walked to his car.

They pulled in front of his house, she noticed nothing had changed; it still looked the same as when she was last there. The little boy statue still stood in the front yard with the lantern; she always thought it was precious. He still had the brown leather sofa and matching love seat, the glass coffee table with matching end tables, the large black television that took up a whole wall it self. On the wall still hung the plaque with the love poem she had given him on the last Valentines Day they were together.

“You know where everything is Cheyenne make your self at home while I get ready.” He told her as he walked down the hall way to his room.

Cheyenne picked up a sportsman magazine and read it as Roger showered.

Roger appeared in the living room. Cheyenne noticed he was wearing blue jeans, a burgundy pull over shirt, with white sneakers. Cheyenne smiled at him. “You are dressed casual?” she asked as they were leaving the house.

“I recall the last time we were together I ended up ruining an expensive suit.” He told her as he locked the front door.

Once inside the car Cheyenne looked seriously at Roger. “It is not my fault that you decided to take a balloon filled with food coloring that was intended for me.” She told him turning her head to look out the window smiling as she recalled the incident.

“Well next time someone points an object that resembles a gun at you remind me not to protect you.” he told her feeling agitated with her.

She tried to hold in her laughter.” You are such a male chauvinist pig! I am quite capable of taking care of myself buddy.” She said wanting to burst out in laughter.

“As long as your sister does not have some guy out to with balloons to hit you with.” He told her as he backed up the car.

“It was a joke and she didn”t know we were going to a charity ball either.” She said looking at him as he drove down the road.

Most of the ride to the police station was in silence, Cheyenne could not resist to pick on him more.” You were really pist off.” She said as she looked out the window.

“Your getting quite a kick out of this memory lane you”re having aren”t you Cheyenne?” he asked her finally smiling.

“Yes I am as a matter of fact, because your expression was priceless.” She said tauntingly.

“Glad I could be of service in making you laugh Cheyenne.” He said as he pulled into the parking space.

Once inside of his office Roger faxed over the photos he had for Hank. Cheyenne sat quietly looking out the office window over looking the front of the station with the marble pond where people were sitting on the edge talking or smoking cigarettes. Cheyenne looked around his office so immaculate, even his black desk had every piece of paper in order; she looked at the picture of his daughter sitting in front of the chair so he could see her as he sat at the desk. She died so young, just 17, first day driving and out of nowhere a drunk driver struck the car killing his daughter instantly. What a shame Cheyenne thought to herself.

“Ready to go see Mrs. Harrelson?” he asked as he picked up some more files.

“Yes I am ready.” Cheyenne said as she walked out of the office.

They both were quiet as they drove to the Harrelson”s house; Cheyenne prayed they would find a connection to stop one more woman from being abducted today.

Roger looked at Cheyenne as they pulled in front of the house.” Well let”s see what we learn here today.” He said as he almost felt helpless to catching whoever was behind these abductions.

Cheyenne felt nervous it was the same feeling she had the last time she was here, as if there were eyes watching them. She noticed that Roger had his hand on his gun in its holster. Probably just habit, she thought to herself.

The door opened with the little old woman standing there looking surprised to see them there.” Mrs. Harrelson is not expecting any guest today.” She said in her soft voice.

“We know she isn”t, I am Detective O”berst and I wish to speak with her now.” His voice was cool as he looked into the woman”s eyes.

“Come in detective and Mrs. Thompson I will tell Mrs. Harrelson you are here.” Her voice sounded irritated.

“I think we hit a nerve with her.” Roger said as he watched the woman go into the den.

A few moments later she came back to where they were standing.” She will receive you now.” She told them leading them to the den.

She”s a female Lurch. Cheyenne thought as they walked down the hall. Once inside Mrs. Harrelson sat behind the desk wearing a green satin robe with a matching gown. Green must be her favorite color, Cheyenne thought to herself remembering she had on an emerald green dress on the last time she and Hank were there.

“How can I help you two today?” She asked in weakened voice.” You will have to excuse me I am not well.” She said rubbing her fore head with her finger tips.

“We need to ask some question”s about your husband.” Roger told her sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Besides the fact that your husband seems to be gone on the same day as the women have been abducted what makes you think he is involved?” Roger noticed her hands shaking as she lit up a cigarette.

“Because when I started to suspect him I would think a woman would show up missing on the day he left and they did. I can not say I have seen him do it with my own eyes because I haven”t detective, but I know he is flying out to Dallas today at six pm and I know in my heart a woman will come up missing.” Her eyes had tears in them as she spoke.

“What plane will he be taking?” Roger asked as he couldn”t help notice how beautiful she looked.

“I don”t know he never tells me, I over heard him making his reservations for today.” She told him as she forced a smile.

“May I see his comb or brush something that would have his prints on it?” he asked her smiling. “I need to see if his finger print matches with what we have.” He said looking at this gorgeous creature sitting in front of him.

Cheyenne seeing him putting on his charm accidentally kicked him in the shin. “I am so sorry Roger.” She said smiling secretly to her self.

Roger rubbed his leg. “No harm done Cheyenne.” He told her looking at her strangely.

Mrs. Harrelson called for her house keeper on the intercom.

” Aggatha please bring me Mr. Harrelson”s brush & comb set without touching it, use something not to remove any prints.” She smiled trying to conceal her pain. “I hope this puts the end to the abductions, plus the end to the nagging question going through my head.” She told them rubbing her brow with her finger tips.

When the woman came in with the brush and comb she handed them to Roger using prongs and placing them in a bag.” Your sure no one but him has touched these?” he asked the elderly woman.

“No one except for Mr. Harrelson uses this set detective.” She told him then stepped away from him.

Roger placed the bag he had in his pocket. “I will be in contact with you as soon as we know the results.” He told the woman as he stood up to leave.

“Thank you detective.” Mrs. Harrelson told him as they were leaving.

Roger rushed back to the station to have the hair samples tested. “If we get a match then all we have to do is meet him before the plane leaves at six tonight.” he told Cheyenne who closed her eyes most of the ride.

Once inside the station he had Cheyenne to wait in his office while he went to have the prints ran, normally it could take up to eight hours but he placed a rush on it. She wished Hank would return soon she hated it when they were apart. She waited what seemed to be an hour before he returned. “We got a match. There”s been an APB issued for him, it”s just a matter of time now.” He told her in an ecstatic voice.

“I hope they pick him up before he gets another woman.” She said looking at her watch.” In four hours he is suppose to be leaving.”

“You know one thing I was relieved about through all of this? Is that you are a blonde and not a brunette.” He said sitting on the corner of the desk top.

She flashed him an ear to ear grin.” Yes I am very grateful to Miss. Clairol in a bottle.” She told him with a smile so bright it made her look younger then forty five years old. “Well I guess all we can do now is just pray and hope he gets picked up.” She told him looking so lost and sad like a small child.