Chapter 6

Allison strode confidently through the halls, weaving her way through the mass of students towards her homeroom class. She passed two girls from her Honors Algebra class.

"Hi," she said with a smile, as they drew close.

"Hey," said the short, pudgy, redhead whose name Allison just couldn't remember. Her friend gave a little smile, and just that quickly, they were swallowed up by the sea of humanity.

Allison kept walking, but her confidence sagged a little. Every day she started with a pep talk, either from Jack or Abigail, or even Analise. Every day, she was resolved that this was the day she would break through the wall of awkwardness and into the veins of the social creature that was high school life.

Every day would then be the same. Her attempts were rebuffed, her resolve weakened, and by the time she made her way out to the soccer field, she just knew it would never change. Soccer practice was a respite of sorts, where she could lose herself in being part of a team. For the most part, on the field, the girls treated her just like any other teammate. Even in the locker room, they treated her more or less the same way.

Yet, in the halls of the school, her interactions with her classmates—teammates included—were superficial and usually short. She engaged other students, but rarely did anyone initiate interactions with her.

Allison continued to smile and greet other students, some she knew from classes, and others not at all. When the collection of students began to thin out, she stopped and looked back the way she'd come. The throng of humanity undulated and moved, erasing any indication that she'd even passed through. With a sigh, she continued towards her homeroom.

Class didn't start for another five or six minutes and, as she normally did after she ran the gauntlet of students, she moved down the quiet hallway to wait by herself outside her classroom door. Sometimes she would finish up an assignment or get some extra studying in. Other times, she'd just sit and think. Usually, she thought about her predicament, about what she was doing wrong, how she could change it, or why the students seemed so ... unwelcoming.

Sitting alone in the empty hallway had another unexpected effect, and that was that it got her out of sight of the kind of guys who seemed drawn to a girl who looked vulnerable and alone. Enough of them were willing to pay attention to her, but she was always able to rebuff their advances by telling them she had a boyfriend. Their response, after the usual attempt to get her to dump Jack, was less than flattering. Allison preferred just to avoid the situation as much as possible.

As she rounded the last corner and stepped into the classroom's hallway, her attention was drawn to a trio of students beyond her classroom door. There seemed to be some kind of argument going on. Her first instinct was to just ignore it. As the argument became more heated, she hesitated, wondering if she should just turn around and head in the other direction. She was far enough away that the students hadn't noticed her yet, so she took a longer look in their direction. One student was smaller than the other two, and seemed to be the recipient of their aggressiveness. A slow bubbling anger began to fill Allison. Why, oh why did people have to pick on those who couldn't stand up for themselves? Without another thought, she walked warily in their direction.

The two bigger guys had their back to her, so they didn't notice her approach. When the smaller guy was shoved roughly against the wall, however, he looked up with wide, scared eyes that went from one bully to the other before flitting on Allison. Recognition registered on his face at the same pace as it registered in Allison's head, and then he quickly looked away. Tanner.

The two jerks must have missed Tanner's reaction at seeing Allison, because they still appeared unaware of her presence. Tanner cringed when the shaggy, dark-haired bully smacked him on the side of the head, but to Allison's surprise, he didn't cower. Allison increased her speed, her anger being intensified by the infusion of personal interest.

" ... little faggot gonna cry now? Huh? Next time we tell you to do it, you better damn well do it. We're not gonna tell you twice. You understand?"

"Answer him, dick licker," said the other guy.

Tanner hesitated, then shook his head almost imperceptibly. Without warning, the first guy buried his fist in Tanner's gut. Tanner's breath exploded in a whoosh and he collapsed to his knees with an anguished groan. Allison was practically running now.

"Leave him alone!" she shouted.

The two boys whipped around, fear in their eyes for a moment, which dissipated when they saw the lone girl approaching them.

"Get outta here, Bitch. This got nothing to do with you."

"I said leave him alone!"

The bigger of the two took a step towards her. "You gonna stop us? Maybe we'll beat the shit out of you, too."

His greasy-haired buddy snickered. "Yeah, then we'll fuck the shit out of you."

"Maybe if you could tell your tiny dick from a pubic hair," Allison retorted.

"Whatever. It's so big you'll be begging for mercy."

Voices drifted down the hallway, and only moments later, students began to round the corner and head in their direction. The arrival of fellow classmates only seemed to embolden the two bullies. They seemed to pull up taller and puff their chests out more.

Allison's heart was racing. Suddenly, Tyson was standing in front of her, and that made her snap. Without a word, she drew back her leg and kicked hard, as if she was clearing the ball down the field. Her foot made contact with the softness between the greasy-haired prick's legs, and he cried out as he collapsed in a heap.

By this time, other students had gathered around to watch, spurring on the fight, but clearly not choosing sides.

"Teacher! Teacher!" came an alarmed shout.

The one bully helped his hurting friend to his feet. "This ain't over, Bitch," he growled, as they quickly scurried away down another corridor.

Just as quickly as the crowd gathered, it dispersed, leaving Allison standing in front of her friend. She was shaking uncontrollably, a mixture of rage and fear trying to find an outlet. She closed her eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths. When she opened them, Tanner was picking up his scattered books. Feeling calmer, she bent down and picked up a binder.

"You OK?" she asked the younger boy, offering him the binder. He snatched it from her and glared at her. "Tanner? What's going on?"

"Leave me alone, Allison," he said, angrily.

Allison felt like she'd been hit with a brick. "What?"

"I said leave me alone. I don't need your help."

With his books clutched to his chest, he shoved past her and scurried away. Allison watched in shock as he retreated, her eyes filling with tears. She stood frozen for what must have been more than a minute before the shrill bell sounded and made her jump. She wiped her eyes, shouldered her backpack and turned towards her classroom. One of her classmates, an average looking guy with moppy red hair and freckles, stood in the doorway, staring intently at her. She fidgeted nervously under his intense scrutiny. She stopped when she got to the door because he hadn't moved. A dopey half-grin crossed his face.

"Don't worry about those two assholes. They'll leave you alone because you're too much trouble. They only pick on people who don't fight back."

Allison shrugged. "Maybe."

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. Finally, Allison cleared her throat.

"Um, I need to get into the room."

He blinked twice and then his smile broadened. He stepped aside and motioned into the room with a bow. With a sideways glance at him, she stepped in and took her seat.

She wondered about this guy. Why was he so focused on her? Was he just being nice? Was he up to something? During the 15 minutes of announcements and attendance that made up homeroom, she kept looking back at him. He was watching her with that same dopey smile. It was a friendly smile and almost disarming in nature.

He seemed to have no shortage of friends, as he was constantly interacting with the students in his half of the room. They seemed to laugh at everything he said, and for a brief moment, Allison wondered if he was talking about her. Since none of other students looked her way, she abandoned that thought. She tried to study on her AP Lit notes, but the incident with Tanner and the bullies, and the strange actions of this new admirer, kept her from concentrating. When the bell rang, she quickly gathered her books. On the way out of the room, she gave him one more look. He was smiling at her again, and gave her a wink when they made eye contact.

Unable to help herself, Allison gave him a small smile in return and then headed for rest of her day.

Phil Goodwyn's presence in the little diner just off the college campus was commonplace, as was the fact that he was intensely reviewing stacks of papers while his coffee grew cold. He was a professor, after all, and always had homework to grade, lesson plans to prepare, or student research papers to edit before publication.

No one coming or going would be able to tell that Phil's focus wasn't on anything as commonplace as schoolwork. The stacks of papers in front of him had nothing to do with school. They were the new documentation regarding Ted Garner and his illegal activities. These documents dug deeper into the Shiloh Group, the dummy organization that Garner and his cronies utilized in committing so much of their banking fraud, the dummy organization whose records were so clean that Phil KNEW they weren't.

Yet, those stacks of papers weren't Phil's focus, either. His focus was on the conversation going on in the booth on the other side of the divider from him.

"You saw him sign it?" said a feminine voice.

"Well, no, but..." This voice was masculine, but held a tone of nervousness.

"Then how do you know?" the woman pressed. "How can you say he knew about the loan denial at all?"

"Ted Garner handled all high-end properties himself."

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am," the man snapped.

Phil tensed. The last thing he wanted was for his investigator to piss off the former loan officer of First Community Bank. Phil knew that he was playing with fire by seeking out Garner's former employees. He knew the risk was high that Garner would catch wind that someone was digging into his past, and while many of his former employees were disgruntled and were unlikely to tell Garner himself, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't talk to a friend, who would then talk to a friend, and so on and so forth until ... Small towns were like that. Word traveled fast.

Phil was at a loss, however. He'd captured everything he could from those on the fringe of Garner's activities. However, most of that information would likely be discredited since it came from those who were on the receiving end of Garner's activities, or from those who knew that so and so was screwed by the bank. Phil needed proof, and in the absence of proof, he needed credible sources.

Disgruntled former employees were hardly credible, but if they could lead to more credible sources, or even proof, it would be worth the risk.

Phil glanced down the list on the paper in front of him, reviewing something he memorized the first time he saw it. The list had been started by Jack when he was preparing to head west. This was a compromise so that Jack could keep his word that he would leave Ted alone, if Ted left Jack and his girls alone. So instead of actually helping Phil fight this battle, a battle Jack initiated and that Phil now championed, Jack gave Phil a list of leads.

The list was ordered so that the least credible and cooperative sources were at the top, and the most credible and cooperative sources were at the bottom. Phil's eyes kept going back to a name about two thirds of the way down the list, at the bottom of the most credible, but least cooperative sources. He circled the name, tracing the multicolored lines that already circled the name. Phil circled it every time he reviewed the list.

Phil's gut said this name was the key. If this person would cooperate, their credibility would be huge. The risk of exposing Phil's operation was too great, however, to approach the contact. At least it was too great at the moment.

With a sigh, Phil circled Sharon Garner's name again.

Abigail was feeling frisky. She always felt this way whenever she had a period, a rare event that surprised her the previous week. It had been five months since her last one. She was entering her most fertile period, and that only added to her feeling of arousal.

She looked over to her husband, who was sitting on a blanket and lying back against a tree, about six feet from where she sat at the picnic table. His legs were extended in front of him, his eyes closed and his laced fingers resting on his trim stomach. God, he was handsome. She daydreamed that she should quietly move over to him, straddle his waist, and grind her crotch against the lump in his jeans. It would get hard, and then she could make wonderful use of it. The thought made her tingle.

She glanced around their secluded little spot in the Lake Hills Greenbelt, a large protected wetland in Bellevue, which had become a favorite place for them to enjoy the cool Northwest summer days.

Except for Allison, Analise, and baby Josh, they were alone. Allison wouldn't mind if Abigail acted out her little fantasy, but Analise? She might not appreciate it. Analise was lying on the blanket next to Jack with her nose buried in a novel.

"Damn, Septembers were never like this in Tennessee," Jack said, his words a lazy slur. He was obviously very relaxed.

"No doubt," Allison replied. She was sitting across the table from Abigail, playing with Josh. The baby was sitting on the table between them, and Allison was making baby sounds as she tickled him. He was giggling happily at his favorite aunt, as Allison liked to refer to herself.

In order to unwind from the stresses of daily life, the family decided to take advantage of one of the few remaining sunny Saturdays of the year with a relaxing picnic. Their friends and neighbors were quick to point out that Seattle's infamous gray skies would almost completely take over by late September, or early October, at the latest.

"You know," Jack said, as he opened his eyes and looked at his ladies. "Tennessee may be one of the most beautiful places in the world, in my opinion, but it is just too freakin' hot."

"When I first moved out here, I was converted," Analise said, without looking away from her book. "I wouldn't mind never having to live through another Tennessee summer."

"Really?" Allison asked.

Her tone drew Abigail's attention. She looked almost surprised that Analise would feel that way.

Analise finally looked up from her book. "Really! I don't miss the humid heat at all. I don't miss the haziness that mars what should be blue skies. Summers are Seattle's hidden secret."

"They are pretty nice," Jack agreed.

Abigail kept watching Allison. She could see the girl's mind working, but she didn't say anything. The conversation died down, and Abigail went back to flipping through the magazine on the table in front of her.

"Don't you miss home?" Allison quietly asked.

Analise took a second to respond. "Who, me? No, not really."

"You don't miss Mom?"

"Hmm ... no, not really."

"How can you say that? I mean, she's ... Mom. She took care of you all your life."

"I guess I don't think she did that great a job."

Allison's face became incredulous. "She did a GREAT job! She took care of us. She always made sure our needs were met. She loved us, supported us, and comforted us."

Analise shrugged. Abigail could see that she either didn't notice the emotion behind Allison's response, or she didn't care.

"Maybe so," Analise said, "But what she taught me more than anything is that we should marry a man who would control us and then act like we like it. She was subservient and weak."

Anger flashed in Allison's eyes, but Abigail cut off her response.

"She wasn't weak, Annie." Abigail paused to form her next words. "She was doing what she felt was right so that we could grow up in as normal an environment as possible. It's not her fault that Dad was so malevolent. I think she was confused and scared more than anything."

"Yeah, but she didn't do anything about it. She just let Dad walk all over her, and by extension, walk all over us."

"What could she do? She believed the admonition to give herself fully to her husband. Adhering to a moral code doesn't make you weak. By the time Mom realized Dad wasn't the man she thought he was, that his heavy hand in our home was doing more harm than good, it wasn't easy to just turn her back on something she'd worked so hard to build. She had to look after us, too."

Analise looked intently at Abigail. "I can't believe you, of all people, are sticking up for her."

"I'm not necessarily sticking up for her. I'll be the first to admit that I think she made the wrong choice by trying to salvage her marriage at the expense of her children. I'm hurt and bitter that she didn't do more to stand up for us, and I'm not sure how long it will take before I can see her or talk to her and not feel angry. All I'm saying is that as I get older, as my life merges more and more with Jack's, I can understand the difficult decisions she faced."

Analise was quiet for a second, and then shrugged again.

Allison picked up the conversation. "She made some bad choices. Of course we'll feel that way because those choices negatively affected us. But she's not weak. You should have seen her that night, after I got back from being with Tyson. She wasn't weak when she stood up to Dad, and she made it possible for me and Abbie and Jack to be together, even though she knew how Dad felt."

"But she did it behind his back," Analise argued. "That's not brave, that's just dishonest."

"Sometimes," Jack said, breaking his silence, "It requires an incredible amount of bravery to act in a way that goes contrary to everything you've been taught as morally just."

"I guess," Analise said, but she didn't seem convinced.

"Maybe we'll just have to agree to disagree," Abigail said. "What about the boys? Don't you miss them a bit?"

Analise smiled. "Sure. I really miss embarrassing Brad in front of all my friends. I'd drag him along all the time and force him to talk to all these hot older girls. He'd blush all evening. If he only realized that their flirting was honest. They all thought he was hunky, for a younger guy."

Abigail smiled as well. She could remember how tongue-tied he'd get whenever she or Analise would have friends over. Abigail was old enough that her friends thought he was cute little kid, not a hunk.

"He's changed," Allison said. "He's so ... sour all the time. I can't remember the last time I saw him smile, other than when he was being an ass to me or Ben."

"That too bad," Analise said, "He always did have a problem picking good friends. I'm sure that's affected him more than anything."

Allison sighed. "I'm glad Ben isn't turning out like him."

Analise sat up. "You guys talk about Ben like he's some perfect kid. He was always a sweet little boy, but he and I weren't particularly close. I mean, I haven't really talked to him in forever, not even when I went to visit last year."

Abigail watched Allison's face light up, and that made her heart hurt a little. Allison and Ben had always been the closest of the siblings, and now they were being forced apart.

"He's still so sweet, but he's becoming so strong." Allison's eyes twinkled. "Emotionally, I mean. He is one of those guys you look at and you know he's just inherently good. He stood up for me and supported me. He stood up for Mom. He's good for her because he's grown up enough for her to lean on when things are hard. He's going to be an awesome husband and father someday."