Brad pulled away, his eyes searching mine.

“I have to go,” I said. Off in the distance came the sound of a whistle. I put the car in drive, hoping to beat the train.

I steered past a classic teal Buick, parked at the museum next door. The old curator waved to me from the front porch. I stopped and rolled down the passenger window.

“Take good care of Deucey or Grandmother will haunt you,” I said with a smile.

“I’ve been looking for a new girlfriend. Your grandmother still available?”

I laughed and waved.

I turned left onto Main Street.

I crossed the railroad ties with barely a tremor.

“Goodbye, Rawlings,” I whispered as I accelerated and headed north, toward the Upper Peninsula, my childhood home. There I’d rest and relax and recover from the months and years of tragedy that had bombarded my life. No more bodies in the basement. No more power-hungry, murderous ex-wives. Just peace and quiet and fresh air.

And maybe, after a while, I’d even forget the brown-eyed man who loved me.

Acknowledgments

Thank you:

To the women of ACFW Critique Group 15 for your honesty and encouragement.

To Janet Kobobel Grant for choosing my entry for “Kill Me If You Can” as Best of Show at the 2004 ACFW Conference. What a blessing that has become!

To family and friends who encouraged my writing habit and stood by me through tough years.

and

To God who makes all things possible.