This chapter contains some violence that is a little more on the disturbing side in my opinion so...you've been warned. Remember, Read, Enjoy, & Review! I'll try to have another chapter up this week.

Chapter 28…

The Next Day…

"So, explain to me why I'm here with you and not Jessica," Adam said, walking around the huge empty living room. He and William were walking through a large Boston duplex. The first of four properties they were supposed to look at before they had to be at the arena. William's friend and realtor was on a phone call outside in his car.

"You're here because you're my friend," William said, opening and closing a window.

Adam laughed; he knew that much was true. After bumping into each other at a hotel bar, they'd become pretty good friends. He also knew that he wasn't William's first choice for assistance in house hunting.

"You're full of shit," he pointed at his friend.

"At times," William shrugged. "Jessica's been weird lately. I thought things were going well and now..I don't know."

"Please stop looking so sad," Adam smirked. "It depresses me."

"Hey, how's your love life going buddy?" William asked.

"Touché," Adam clapped his hands lightly.

"You think Jessie's weirdness has anything to do with Hunter?" Adam asked.

William rolled his eyes, "That would be my guess. You know, I'm starting to think I'm fighting a losing battle here."

"When people are good together, things work themselves out," Adam patted his shoulder. "Some couples are just meant to be. Your sister and Jeff for example."

William laughed, "You can't possibly mean that."

"I can and I do," Adam insisted. He completely understood why William would think the way he did. His previous actions didn't exactly support his statement.

"Look, there was a time when it was pretty obvious that Viveca wanted to be with me, not Jeff," Adam explained. "We were friends first, really close. I started to see that she wanted more but..there was Jeff. He was one of my best friends and he had this schoolboy crush on her. Viveca wanted to have a talk with me. Dawn gave me a heads up that it might be a relationship talk…I pushed her away. I kept avoiding her, pushing her to give Jeff a chance. There was no way I could date her when he felt the way he did about her."

"I never knew that," William said, surprised. "All I ever heard was that you kissed her and then you lied to break them up."

Adam nodded, "I got selfish. I didn't realize how much I wanted Viveca until Jeff had her. It was a blow to my ego when I realized she didn't want me anymore. I was an ass. If I could take back what I did, I would in a heartbeat to get my friends back."

"You mean I'm not enough for you?" William smirked, opening his arms.

Adam laughed, holding him at arms length.

"Seriously, why don't you try talking to them?" William asked. "It's been a long time. They're married now. Maybe enough time has passed to let bygones be bygones."

Adam shook his head, "I don't know if that's true."

"Well I think you should try," William said. He looked around the empty space, "Now enough of the pity party…You think I could throw a good party in this place?"


"I told you I can carry them myself," Cory said as John dropped her bags at his door and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

"And I told you no," John smiled at her, unlocking the door. His phone rang and he pulled it out, answering it quickly. He pushed the door open and gestured for her to go inside. She reached for one of the bags but he pushed her hand away, waving her inside. John had moved since the last time they were in Boston and Cory hadn't actually been to his new place yet. It was huge condo, decorated exactly how it should be for him. All the furniture was big and comfy looking. There were frame posters of events in sports history on the walls and as she walked toward the kitchen, she saw one of the largest refrigerators she'd ever seen. She opened it, pulling out a bottle of water.

"Sorry baby, that was my dad," John walked in, tossing his phone and keys in a bowl on the marble island in the middle of the kitchen.

"No problem, I was just looking around," she smiled, sitting on the island.

"You like it?" he asked, smiling proudly.

"I love it, it's amazing," she nodded. "Is this a restaurant fridge?"

"Yes ma'am," he nodded, opening it and getting out his own water.

"You are ridiculous," she shook her head.

"You love it," he laughed, standing in front of her.

She could see through his smile that he was tired. She knew he hadn't slept much, if at all, the night before. The few times she woke up for a glass of water or to go to the bathroom, he was wide awake, holding her protectively. It was a huge comfort to her after what happened in the woods but she felt guilty that he'd been so restless.

"Why you looking at me like that?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

"Because I love you," she said, touching the sides of his face. She kissed him softly and then looked into his eyes, "You know I'm okay, right?"

"I know," he said, though he didn't look completely convinced. "You just have to let me worry. It's not gonna go away. Not after what happened."

She put her arms around his neck and he moved even closer. He kissed her, softly at first, then with increasing intensity. His hands found her hair and hers slid under his shirt. She felt all of his tension, his worry, his fear, his love for her. All of his emotions flowed through him and into her. She pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. He pulled hers over her head and threw it behind him. He started working on unclasping her bra as she pulled his zipper down.

"Johnny!"

Cory's eyes snapped open and John jumped away from her. Much to Cory's horror, John's mother and father walked around the corner and into the kitchen, stopping short when they saw them.

"Ma…Dad," John stammered. Cory hopped down off of the island, using one arm to feebly try and cover herself as she looked around for her shirt. She found it, turning her back and pulling it on quickly.

When she turned around, she was relieved to see John Sr. laughing. His wife looked decidedly less amused.

"We told you we were only a few minutes away," she glared at John.

"I uh…kinda forgot," John laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Mom, you remember Cory don't you?"


Savannah paced back and forth, raking her hands through her hair. She had a massive headache from grinding her teeth. She'd bitten her nails down to the quick. She couldn't believe she'd let those stupid little bitches get away from her. She'd had them right where she wanted them and then she got tired. She couldn't run after them anymore. And they got away.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she said through clenched teeth, slamming her fists into the sides of her head. "Stupid, stupid."

She was so angry she felt as if fire flowed through her veins instead of blood. Her face was hot, her breathing ragged and raw. She picked up her phone, the object nearest to her, and launched it across the room. Two picture frames went crashing to the floor and she walked over, picking one of them up, not paying any attention to the shards of broken glass around it.

Someone needed to pay for this. Someone had to suffer. She turned the picture frame over, finding herself staring at a picture of her family. She'd already crossed out Michael's face after his death. She'd crossed her own face out long before that. Only two faces remained in the photo. The faces of her parents, the people who betrayed her. She took a slow, deep breath and dropped the frame on the floor again. She knew what she had to do.


Taylor lugged her laptop and suitcases into the arena, making her way to the dressing rooms. She and Mark were flying out to New York immediately after the show. He had an appearance very early the next morning.

"Hey Taylor," one of the productions came over to her as she entered the gorilla bustling backstage area. The crew was beginning to get everything set up for that night's show.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Someone left this for you," he handed her a manila envelope with her name written in sloppy cursive.

"Do you know who it's from?" she asked.

"Sorry, no," he shook his head. "Someone just handed it to me a few minutes ago and said to give it to you when you get here. I gotta run, I'll see you later."

She waved as he left and then looked down at the envelope. She didn't recognize the handwriting and a nervous feeling crept up the back of her neck but she shook it off, taking a deep breath. It was just an envelope. It couldn't be anything that bad. She found the women's dressing area and dropped her bags, plopping down on a chair and opening the envelope carefully.

Taylor,

Cory requested that I return these items to you. Enclosed are my copies of her credit cards, any keys she has given me, and the cell phone she provided me with.

Jacinda Jacobs

Taylor looked through the envelope, making sure everything Cory told her Jacinda should be returning was indeed there. All the cards and keys were accounted for and she hadn't even expected the phone. She put the items in her laptop bag and grabbed her own keys. She was going to go to a nearby restaurant and grab some food while she made a few phone calls. She was looking down at her phone to check the time when she saw her email icon start blinking. She opened her inbox, expecting a confirmation for Mark's appearance the next day. She hadn't received it yet. Instead she saw something from an address she didn't recognize. The subject was Re: schedule change for Mark Callaway.

She frowned, opening the message. Inside there were just two words:

I'm Back.

Taylor's breath caught in her throat, confusion quickly beginning to cloud her thinking. Then, just as she felt herself getting anxious, she deleted the message and took a deep breath, looking around the room. She was safe. She was fine. She was with her friends and, whether they knew it or not, her family. There was nothing to worry about.


Jeanette tossed a few treats on the ground for her dogs as she strolled through her bedroom, phone pressed to her ear. She'd been listening to her daughter complain about an unruly employee for the last 20 minutes.

"Adelle, dear, if it's really that bad, fire him," Jeanette counseled. "I highly doubt you have a problem with firing people."

"You're right about that," Adelle laughed. "Listen, have you talked to my daughter recently?"

"Not in a few days, why?"

"She hasn't been answering my calls."

"Well that isn't anything new," Jeanette quipped. "I wouldn't worry."

"Very funny mother."

"She's a busy girl," Jeanette shrugged. "Besides, she's got that that adorable boyfriend and a new roommate. She'll get around to talking to you."

"New roommate?' Adelle asked. "What roommate?"

"One of her friends, Taylor Vogle was her name, I think," Jeanette answered. "She made Stephen promise not to run a check on her."

Adelle was silent.

Jeanette stopped walking, frowning. Very few things could render her daughter speechless.

"Addie?"

"What did you say her roommates name was?" Adelle asked.

"Taylor Vogle," Jeanette repeated.

Again, Adelle didn't say anything.

"What's wrong dear?"

"Nothing, nothing," Adelle said with a forced laugh. "I thought I knew the name but..I don't."

"That's all?"

"Yes mother," Adelle insisted. "That's all."


Sarah hung up the phone, tossing it beside her. Yvonne had managed to get Janet Wood's number but she hadn't been picking up either.

"How do I find you?" she stared at the picture of Michelle and Michael on the beach. Staring at the young blonde gave Sarah the chills. After reading that diary, the very thought of Michelle or Savannah or whatever she called herself, was frightening to Sarah. It frightened her to imagine someone so warped.

"I gotta give it to you," Sarah shook her head. "You're smart for a psycho bitch. We haven't been able to find you yet….but we will."


"So…" John said, leaning against the wall, looking across the hall at his father. They were waiting for his mother to get out of the bathroom.

"She's great John," his father gave him a warm smile. "She's smart, she's funny. She handled an extremely embarrassing situation with a lot of grace. I don't have a bad word to say."

John smiled proudly, though he knew his dad would love Cory. His mother was the one he wasn't so sure about.

"You don't have a bad word to say about what?" Carol walked out of the bathroom, fixing her hair.

"Cory," John Sr. smiled. "I was just telling your son that we love her."

"We?" Carol gave him a look. "You sure about that?"

"What's not to like?" John Sr. asked.

"She seems so high maintenance," Carol made a face. "Like she's never had to lift a finger for anything."

"Mom, that's not true," John shook his head. "She's not like that."

"It also doesn't help that she was practically straddling you in the kitchen when we got there this morning."

"Our boy isn't exactly innocent there Carol," his father argued.

"I forgot to tell her you guys were close," John explained. "That was my fault."

"It doesn't matter," Carol waved. "There's just something about her that I don't trust."


Hunter weaved through the growing crowd of people in the backstage area, making his way toward the dressing rooms. He'd just talked to Mark who informed him of what happened to Cory and Sarah the night before. Mark was furious and Hunter shared the sentiment. He understood Cory's hope that Owen and Sarah could help her find Dawn but she was putting herself in danger.

He stopped when he saw her. She was standing in front of the mirror, putting on mascara. She looked picture perfect except for a couple of scratches on her right arm. She wore a cutoff Survivor Series t-shirt and a pair of black leather shorts and wrestling boots. She smiled at the mirror when she saw him.

She turned around and he walked in, pulling her into a tight hug, "I just heard what happened. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she hugged him back. "Who told you?"

"Mark," he answered, rubbing a hand up and down her back. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She rested her head on his shoulder, "It was really late by the time I got home, I figured I could just tell you and Jessie once I saw you."

"Did the cops figure out who it was?" he asked.

"Not yet," she shook her head. "They don't have a ton to go on."

He smoothed a hand over her hair, resting his chin on top of her head. When Mark had told him, all he could think about was what could have happened to her. The thought of someone hurting his friend scared the hell out of him.

"I'm okay, really," she insisted. "It was scary but, I'm fine."

Hunter heard the sound of someone clearing their throat and he looked up. He let Cory go when he saw John's mother and father at the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cena," he smiled. "I didn't know you two were here."

"Funny," Carol smiled. "We didn't know you would be here either."


Viveca pulled the hot rollers out of her hair, watching as her hair fell around her face in long, dark curls.

"Hey buddy!"

She felt a hand push her shoulder and she lurched forward, bracing herself on the counter in front of her. She turned, not surprised to see Amy behind her.

"Sorry," she winced. "You okay?"

"I'm sure I will be," Viveca tried to laugh, rolling her shoulder. "Is there any particular reason for this exuberance?"

Before Amy could respond, the dressing room door opened again and Stephanie walked in.

"I uh…I'll tell you later," Amy patted her on the good shoulder before exiting the room.

Stephanie stared after Amy for a few seconds before looking back at Viveca.

"You guys are friends now?" Stephanie asked. "Last I heard, Cory banned her from your training sessions."

"I don't know if we're quite friends but we're..getting along."

"Well I'm not sure if that makes this more or less awkward."

"What's up?" Viveca asked, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms.

"There's an idea being bandied about amongst the writers that I'm pretty sure is gonna make it to script. I wanted you to have a heads up."

"And this idea would be?"

"Jeff and Lita," Stephanie answered.

"What?" Viveca stared. "Amy's always been with Matt."

"Exactly," Stephanie nodded. "We've been looking for a catalyst for Matt and Jeff to feud for a while now. Looks like Amy's gonna be it. I just thought I would tell you first."

Viveca forced a smile, appreciating the notice, "Steph, it's fine."

"You're not bothered at all?" Stephanie looked skeptical.

"Not in the least."

The other woman was obviously not convinced but Stephanie was never one to push an employee when they were being cooperative.

'Alright," Stephanie clasped her hands together. "They need to film a segment with Cory and Lisa in here in about 10 minutes."

"I'll be out before then," Viveca assured her.

"Okay, have a good show," Stephanie gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Viveca thought back to Amy. If Stephanie said no one knew about the new angle…what was the other woman so excited about?


Matt winced, watching the monitor in the men's locker room as Dave gave Chris a power bomb.

Jason walked into the room and an amused smirk quickly crossed his face, "Scouting the competition?"

"Competition for what?" Matt frowned. He knew what Jason meant but everyone accusing him of being interested in Lianna was getting old.

Jason shook his head, "You know what."

"He probably doesn't," Lianna breezed into the room, sitting down beside Matt. "People have a tendency to overestimate his brain capacity because his head's so big."

Matt glared at her, "Yeah, big like your-"

"Do you two ever just say Hi to each other?" Jason laughed.

Lianna shook her head, "I don't think so."

Jason laughed, "That's pathetic. You coming out with us tonight Li?"

"Cant," she gave an apologetic smile. "Dave and I are going out with some friends of his."

"Sounds like some stimulating conversation," Matt teased.

"Don't be mean," Lianna pushed his shoulder. "I'm really starting to like him."

"Dave?" Matt made a disgusted face. He couldn't understand why any half intelligent woman who'd been around him for more than 10 minutes would like Dave. He was an arrogant ass.

"Yes, Dave," Lianna insisted defensively. "Honestly, what is your problem with him? Did he ever actually do anything to you?"

"He's a jerk," Matt didn't bother answering her question. "And he treats women like dirt."

"Well you're not a woman," she joked. Her expression turned sincere, "Seriously, he doesn't treat me like dirt. Can you just try to be nice?"

"Why do you care if I like him?" Matt asked. "You're the one dating him."

"I care because you're my friend," she said in a rare moment of peace. "I want the people I care about to like him."

Matt sighed deeply, "I'll consider it."

"Thank you," she smiled.

The door opened and Chris Masters and Brian Kendrick walked in, laughing about something. When they saw Lianna, they stopped. It was clear that they were stopping due to her presence since they were staring directly at her.

"What?" Lianna broke the awkward silence.

"Nothing," Chris smiled. "You just look nice today."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "That's all."

They grabbed what they needed out of their bags and walked out, leaving Lianna looking annoyed.

She put her hands on her hips, "What the hell is going on around here?"


Savannah checked her makeup in the mirror one last time. She looked perfect. She smiled at her reflection before turning off her car's overhead light and got out of the car. She pulled her coat tighter around her, bracing against the cold. The weatherman on the radio was predicting a snowstorm and it was looking like he would be correct.

She walked up to the door of the home she'd grown up in, looking around the lawn. She could see herself running around, playing tag with her brother and father. She remembered so vividly all the times they'd all sat outside on the porch swing while her father read a book aloud. There had been a time when she was the apple of her father's eye and he was her hero. He loved Michael but she had been his favorite because she was his first, his little girl. Everyone knew it. They had all been close though. They had been happy. But that was before she knew the truth about her so called family. That was before the picture perfect image went away. She took a deep breath before she rang the doorbell, a part of her wishing it hadn't come to this.

Sheila Farisse walked to the front door, wondering who would be stopping by on a night when the news was calling for a near blizzard. She looked out the window to the side of the door, seeing a beautiful young brunette woman. She looked anxious, her arms folded over her wool coat. Sheila unlocked the door and pulled it open, using it to shield her body from the cold.

"Can I help you dear?"

"Mom," the brunette's eyes were filled with tears. "It's me."


Sheila thought she might faint as she stepped out from behind the door, staring at the young woman in front of her. She looked nothing like her daughter but for some reason, Sheila felt deep down in her gut that this woman was her flesh and blood.

"Michelle?"

The brunette nodded, reaching forward and pulling Sheila into a tight hug.

Sheila squeezed back so hard she feared she might break her.

"Oh my God," Sheila cried. "I cant believe it."

"It's me mommy," Michelle cried against her. "I'm home."


"How the hell are we supposed to find someone when we have no proof that she's here?" Sarah paced back and forth. She'd been walking a hole in the floor for at least 10 minutes.

"She's here, she has to be," Owen shook his head. "She's gotta be here as someone else."

"What?"

"Maybe the reason it's been impossible for us to find Michelle Farisse," Owen smirked. "Is that she isn't Michelle Farisse anymore."

Sarah frowned at him but he clearly felt he was on to something. He had a very excited look in his eyes. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen then grabbed Sarah's phone.

"What are you doing?" she raised a brow at him.

He ignored her, looking for a number. When he found it, he pressed the call button and put it on speaker phone, setting the phone down on the table.

Sarah was surprised to see he'd dialed Cory's number.

"Hello?" Cory picked up on the third ring.

"Cory, its Owen," he said, pen in hand. "Listen, I was just thinking about what you said about some discrepancies in your credit card charges…I ran into a friend of mine who's a forensic accountant. I was wondering if you'd mind if I give a call to your accountant, offer him some help."

"I guess that would be fine," she sounded a little confused. "I don't know if your friend will be much help, Andrew is pretty much the best but I'll give you his number just let me find it."

There was a pause for a few seconds and then Cory recited the number for him.

"Thank you," Owen said, scrawling it down.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll send him a text now and let him know you're gonna call. I don't know how much info he'll have right now. He's usually right on top of things and I haven't heard from him yet."

"I'll let you know if I have anything new for you," Owen said.

"Okay," she said. "Hey, I'm getting in the car right now. Just let me know what happens. Say hello to Sarah for me."

"Will do," Owen agreed. "Bye."

"What's going on?" Sarah asked,, sitting across from him. "Where are you going with this?"

"You'll see," Owen said, getting his own phone and dialing the number Cory gave him. Andrew Mann's secretary transferred him quickly when he said he was calling on behalf of Cory Samms.

"This is Andrew," the man sounded gruff.

"Hi, my name's Owen Wagner," Owen introduced. "I'm a friend of Cory's."

"I heard," Andrew said. "How can I help you?"

"Cory told me that you found some discrepancies on one of her credit cards, I believe it was an AmEx,' Owen explained. "I was wondering if you'd gotten anything from AmEx yet?"

"I did actually, just yesterday," Andrew answered. "I'm afraid it looks like this was just an oversight on Cory's part."

"An oversight?" Owen frowned.

"Mmhm," Andrew said. Owen could hear the sound of keys on a keyboard. "All the charges were for air fare. Believe me, if there's on thing I see a lot on her cards other than shoes, it's air fare. She must have just forgotten which card was used. It happens from time to time when you're dealing with cards with such high limits."

"Andrew…do you think you could forward me a list of those flights?" Owen asked.

"Sure thing," Andrew said. "What's your email son?"

Owen gave Andrew his personal email address and heard a few more clicks.

"Check your inbox," Andrew said.

"Thank you so much sir," Owen said, once he made sure the email had made it to him.

"You're welcome," Andrew said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some business to attend to. You have a nice evening and tell Cory I say hello."

Once he hung up, he quickly checked his email and Sarah watched him, waiting for him to tell her what he was looking at.

"Holy shit."


"So what did your parents think?" Cory asked, watching out the window as a light snow began to fall.

"Well my dad loves you," John answered. "Even though you're a Jets fan."

"He respects my integrity," Cory smirked. 'And your mom?"

"I'm not really sure," John said, blue eyes locked on the road. He couldn't have been more obviously lying if his nose had been growing.

"You're full of it,' she pointed. "What'd she say?'

John shrugged, "She wasn't really happy about the whole Hunter thing."

"It wasn't a thing," Cory felt defensive. "Did you explain to her that he's one of my closest friends?"

"Of course I did," he answered. "But that isn't exactly how it looked."

"I don't know what you mean," Cory shook her head. "I was attacked last night, my friend was worried. We hugged."

"Yeah but you don't see the way he looks at you babe," John said.

"John whatever you think you're seeing, it's wrong," Cory put a hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, I know. There's no one Hunter has any feelings for me that aren't platonic."

"And how do you know?" John asked.

"Because he just had sex with my sister," Cory blurted, immediately covering her mouth once the words escaped her. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone, not even John. Jessica strictly forbade her.

"What?" John looked over at her.

"You are not supposed to know that," she pointed, giving him a warning look.

"I take it you're not either," he smirked.

"Jessie had to tell someone," Cory shrugged. "They're not exactly clear on where they stand."

"I can't believe it finally happened," John laughed. "I gotta admit, it's kind of a relief."

"Why?"

"Because if Hunter's thinking about Jessie then you're right and I'm wrong…he's not thinking about you."


Savannah sat on the stairs, looking down at the gun in her hands. She had to do this. It wasn't her fault. She had told her parents she was going upstairs to fix her makeup. She kept trying to rid her mind of the image of her father's face when he saw her that night. He looked as if someone had boxed up the moon and stars and brought them to him. He had embraced her so tightly she thought her eyes would pop out of their sockets. The tears in her eyes when she saw her mother had been forced but for her father, they were real. She felt a lump rising in her throat and she shook it off. She couldn't let this reunion get to her. The feelings weren't real. These people didn't really care about her the way they said they did. If they had, they wouldn't have betrayed her.

She walked down the stairs and around the corner, toward the family room.

"I just can't believe she's here," Sheila was gushing. "I've missed her so much Gary."

"So have I," Gary said. "I never thought this day would come."

"Neither did I," Sheila said. "We need to just be grateful and not expect too much."

"I'm not expecting too much Sheila," he insisted. "It's just good to see my little girl."

Savannah bit her bottom lip, feeling the tears in her eyes again. She walked into the room and Gary beamed when he saw her. Then his eyes fell upon the gun in her hand.

"Michelle?" he stared.

"I love you daddy," she smiled through her tears and raised the gun. With another deep breath, she fired.


"These flights are all to and from New Jersey," Owen said, scanning through the list. He'd pulled it up on his computer so he could see it more clearly. "Every single one of them."

"When did they start?" Sarah asked, sitting beside him.

He pointed to the first one, "Two weeks before it was discovered that Dawn was missing."

"Well Cory wasn't on them…so who was?"

"The only person with access to the card other than her accountant is Jacinda Bernahl."

Owen shook his head, "This doesn't make any sense. Someone had to have stolen the card or gotten the number."

"What makes you say that?" Sarah asked.

"Because Jacinda is married to Mark's best friend, she's been around these people all this time-"

"Cory told me she was suspicious of Jacinda recently," Sarah pointed out. "And she spends a lot of time off of the road with their baby."

"Exactly," Owen said. "Her baby with her husband."

"Who shares quite a few physical characteristics with Mark," Sarah said, standing up, beginning to pace again. "Owen, you said it yourself…Maybe we can't find Michelle because she isn't Michelle anymore."

She picked up the picture of Michael and Michelle and then shoved Owen aside as she sat in front of the computer. She pulled up a picture of Cory, Glenn, and Jacinda smiling at a fan event. She held the picture in her hand close to the computer. They looked like two completely different people. Jacinda had darker hair, straighter, whiter teeth with fuller lips. Her cheekbones looked higher, her chin was smaller but there was something in the eyes, they weren't the same color but there was something about the shape.

Owen shook his head, "Show that to any other person in the world and it's two different, unrelated people."

"Think about it Owen, if this woman is crazy enough to kidnap her ex's pregnant girlfriend, what makes you think she's not crazy enough to hide in plain sight and enjoy her handiwork?"

"It's possible," Owen nodded. "But how do we figure it out without accusing her first? If we're wrong and we come to Mark with this…"

"I have an idea," Sarah smiled as it came to her. "Get your keys Wagner. We need to go talk to Martin."


"Michelle," Sheila stared horrified at her daughter. "What did you do?"

"What does it look like?" Michelle snapped, turning toward her. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Sheila stared at her husband's lifeless body. Tears trailed all over her face and she turned back to her daughter, "Why? What..? Why?"

"W-w-why?" Michelle giggled, using her free hand to wipe away her own tears. Her eyes grew dark in an instant, "Why don't you learn to finish a fucking thought?"

"How can you do this?" Sheila cried, feeling a fear she couldn't begin to describe. "Michelle, I love you. I've always loved you."

"You love me?" she smirked. "You really want me to believe that. You don't love me! You didn't love him!"

"How could you-"

"You cheated on him!" Michelle yelled. "I'm living proof of that! You're a whore and a liar."

"I'm your mother," Sheila cried.

"I'm not your daughter anymore," Michelle glared, raising the gun again. Sheila looked into her eyes and felt the most intense pain she'd ever felt, both emotionally and physically as a bullet entered her chest.


"Martin," Sarah said softly, sitting next to him on the couch. "Do you remember when you told me about the brown haired lady?"

"Yeah," Martin nodded. "The last time you were here."

"If I showed you some pictures of a few different ladies…do you think you could tell me which one is the one you saw?"

"I think so," he nodded eagerly.

She looked up at Owen and he put down three pictures. All of women with brown hair and hazel eyes. The middle picture was Jacinda Bernahl. Sarah crossed her fingers on one hand and held Martin's with the other, "Is the brown haired lady you saw in one of those pictures?"

"Yes," Martin nodded shakily.

"Can you show me which one she is?" Sarah asked softly.

Martin looked up at his mother and Mrs. Greenburg nodded encouragingly.

"That one," he pointed quickly to the middle picture. "She's the one who…who called me names."

"Well she was wrong Martin," Sarah smiled, squeezing his hand. "She couldn't have been more wrong."

Owen smiled at the interaction between Sarah and Martin. She really was a caring, comforting person.

"Hey Martin," Owen smiled. "Can I show you another picture?"

"Sure," Martin nodded.

He pulled the picture Sarah had found in Stephen's basement out of his pocket. It was of Michael and Michelle.

"Do you recognize this lady?" Owen asked.

"Yeah," Martin nodded. "She was the lady who lived in that apartment you asked me about…Is she in trouble?"


"Hello?"

"Ms. Wood," Savannah cried frantically. "Ms. Wood thank God you're home."

"Who is this?" Janet asked, sounding confused. "Sheila?"

"No," Savannah cried. "It's Michelle…Michelle Farisse..Ms. Wood I don't know what to do."

"Wait a minute Michelle, calm down," Janet said. "Where are you?"

"I'm at my parents' house," Savannah sniffed. "Ms. Wood it's horrible…She killed him…Oh my God she killed him."

"Michelle dear, slow down," Janet said. "What are you talking about?"

"My mother," Savannah sobbed. "She went crazy…She-she….Oh my God."

"It's okay," Janet said. "Just tell me."

"She shot my father," Savannah cried harder. "I came to see them….and when I got here…he was dead."

"Oh God…where is Sheila now? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine but my mother," Savannah cried. "My mother she…she shot herself…Ms. Wood please come here. Please, please, please."

"Michelle, did you call the police?"

"Yes," she sniffed. "I called them but…I cant be here by myself..please come."

"I'll be right there," Janet promised. "Just stay calm honey."

"Okay," Savannah sniffed. Her breathing returned to normal as she hung up the phone. Blood covered the receiver and she smiled at it, shaking her head. "Two down, one to go."

A Few Minutes Later…

Janet walked into the house, afraid of what she would see. Michelle had left the door open for her. It didn't look as if the police had arrived yet.

"Michelle," she called, walking through the house. "Michelle!"

She stopped at the door to the living room, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Gary slumped over in his favorite chair. She looked away, not wanting to see her old friend that way. "Michelle!" She walked down the hall toward the back of the house.

"Oh my God," she felt her stomach rise into her throat when she walked through the door of Gary's office. Sheila was slumped in the corner, drenched in blood, her body obviously having been riddled with bullets. She couldn't possibly have done that herself.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Oh my God."

"Janet," Savannah smiled, walking into the office. "I see you've said hello to my mother…did you happen to pass dad in the living room?"

"Michelle?" Janet gasped.

"Duh," Savannah laughed. "Howya doin Ms. Wood? It's been a while."

"You did this," Janet pointed. "You did this."

"Did I?" Savannah gasped.

"Wh-why?"

"Because some people just cant seem to keep their god damn mouths shut," Savannah said, holding the gun up and pointing it at the other woman's face. "Like you Janet…you never have been able to keep quiet, have you?"

"You are insane," Janet whispered, frightened.

"Now, now," Savannah smiled. "This is about your problems Janet..not mine."

Savannah walked over to Janet. The older woman tried to run but Savannah quickly cornered her.

"You told them everything they wanted to know, didn't you?" she smiled.

"I-I-

"I-I-I," Savannah mocked her, putting down the gun and picking up one of her father's hunting knives that she'd taken out of his locked cabinet.

"How could you kill your parents?" Janet asked, her eyes wide. Annoyed and bored of toying with the old gossip, Savannah jammed the knife into her. Janet slumped forward into her and Savannah pushed her away, disgusted. Janet's eyes darted back and forth and Savannah sat, watching as she grabbed at the knife, obviously in shock. Shaking her head, she picked up the gun, pointing it at her neighbor. Part of her wanted to sit and watch her die but she just didn't have that kind of time. She pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through Janet's skull. Then she placed the knife down on the table and turned around, "Now to clean up."