SUMMARY OF THE FIRST CHAPTER
Janet was abused by her husband, she later discovers him bleeding on the floor when she goes to check on him. She sends her little boy, Tommy to get help while she tries to stop his bleeding.
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Terrified, Janet runs towards the safety of the woods. She knows running from the law is probably the dumbest thing she can possibly do, but realizes if she sticks around any longer, she'll go down for a murder she didn't commit.

I have to find a safe place to hide. She reasons as she dashes through the forest. After running for what seems like forever, she notices an old abandoned cabin nestled deep in the woods.

She first notices the porch is condensed to mere slivers of decayed wood. She then realizes its roof is collapsing inward; thick hardy vines encompass the crumbled structure.

Throwing the door open, Janet plops down on the hardwood floor; dust particles scatter around her. Her chest burns and legs ache as she gasps for much-needed air. Random thoughts race through her mind as she tries to control her breathing.

She first remembers how happy she was on her wedding day, so full of love and hope for their bright future ahead. She then recalls how her wondrous bliss turned into terror. The countless times Bill left her bleeding on their cold tile floor. How his heavy hand sent her into premature labor, which caused her to lose their first baby. She then pictures Bill on their carpeted floor, blood gushing from his wound. She recalls how the cops dragged her across their yard in handcuffs, and the looks her neighbors gave her as she passed them by.

"What am I going to do, where am I going to go, how will I ever survive?" she cries in the darkness.

****

Rachel sees Jeff holding Timmy when she walks across the lawn. Jeff has only been with the department for a few months, but has shown a lot of potential in that short amount of time.

"I need to talk to him a minute, if you don't mind, Jeff." Rachel reaches for the young lad.

Timmy grabs a hold of Jeff's neck. "I don't wanna talk, I don't wanna."

Rachel tries to pull him away. The frightened child clings tighter. "Honey, I know this is hard for you, but I need to figure out what happened tonight, OK?"

"No, I don't want to talk about it, I don't, I don't," He buries his face in the officer's shoulder.

Jeff soothingly rubs his back."You need to tell this nice Detective what you told me, alright?" 

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Timmy locks his fingers in place.

How would I get my baby sister to talk? Rachel pictures their conversations. "Your mommy needs your help and you can do that by telling us what happened tonight."

"She needs my help?" Timmy lifts his head from Jeff's shoulders. He wipes his nose with his shirtsleeve; leaving a trail of snot behind.

Glad I'm not the one holding you. She crinkles up her nose as she steps back. "She's counting on you, Timmy. So be a big boy and tell me what happened, alright?"

"I... I'll try." He hiccups. Timmy wipes tears from his face. "Daddy came home yelling at mommy. I got scared so I hid in my closet. I always feel safer in there," he explains.

Rachel pulls a notebook from her pocket. "Then what happened, honey?"

"I heard mommy yelling for me. I didn't go to her at first cause I was afraid daddy was going to hit me too. He does that when I've been bad." He shows her his bruised back.

"Timmy told me this has been going on for some time," Jeff adds. He glances dolefully at the little boy.

Rachel gets a sorrowful look on her face. "What happened next, Honey?"

"I saw Mommy standing over Daddy with a bat in her hands." He shoves his face into Jeff's shoulders and starts to cry.

"One of the EMT's pulled him out. They said he was by their door," Jeff adds.

"Where did she get the bat?" Timmy continues to sob in Jeff's arms.

Rachel tries again. "Is it yours, Timmy?" The little boy still didn't answer.

"He told me he was playing with it earlier and his mom took it away," Jeff adds.

"If I hadn't played with that stupid bat, daddy would still be alive," Timmy bawls.

*****

Joe sees the crowd has increased when he steps out of the house. It's a shame they weren't this concerned when the abuse was going on, he thinks as he scans the growing cluster gathered out on the lawn.

"Hey, Sergeant, I have an update for you," Jerry says, running across the yard.

Joe turns around. "Whatcha got, Jerr?"

"I talked to another neighbor and they said Bill skid into his driveway a little before nine. They hear yelling and glass breaking a few minutes later. The Brown's said they went to check on Janet, make sure she and her boy are alright. That's when they saw someone swinging an object at Bill's head and him falling to the floor. They ran back to the house and called 911."

Maybe, we're getting somewhere, Joe thinks. "Could they describe this person?"

"Mrs. Brown said she could only see shadows because their curtains were drawn. She did say the person has a small frame and stood shoulder-high to Bill. They said they watched for someone to come out, but didn't see anyone leave." Jerry finishes; he closes his notebook.

Their description makes his attacker around five three. Did they describe the object?"

"They said it was long and thin like a bat."

"Keep digging, Jerry, maybe somebody else saw more."

"Yes, Sir." Jerry nods. He turns to leave.

"Joe, I just spoke to Timmy. He said Janet was standing over Bill with a baseball bat in her hands," Rachel reports.

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation." Joe turns around when he hears shuffling beside him.

"I brought the dogs, Sergeant." An officer announces.

"Why do we need canines?" Rachel questions as she glances down at the mutts.

"Janet managed to escape," Joe reports, as he glares at the EMT's.

"How?"

"No one was with her."

Rachel looks their way. "You'd think they'd know better than that."

"To make matters worse, the paramedic removed her handcuffs so they could treat her wrist."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Damn idiots," she mumbles, she glares at her former coworkers. She's had to deal with their incompetence on several occasions when she worked at the hospital.

Joe walks over to his detective. "Is our search party together, Jerr?"

"They're right over there, Boss." He points across the lawn.

"The grandma is here to pick up Timmy," Jeff interrupts.

"Get her information, in case, we need to contact her and be sure to ask her if she knows where her daughter-in-law might go. Rachel, I want you to get a patrol car to sit on her house in case Janet decides to show."

***

The streets seem so cold and lonely this time of night. The frosty air gently sweeps across the abandoned streets only adds to this deserted feel. The assassinator didn't care. She has important work to do, a task that'll greatly improve this small southern town. With a lot of hard work I know I can restore peace in this city, the way it used to be. It'll be so nice to go back to those happier days before abusive men took it over.

She feels the wind pick up; she fastens her coat around herself. She starts thinking about her friend. I'm going to take care of him for you, Beth, something I should've done years ago.

Beth married Steve against her family's wishes. Everyone tried to warn her about his drunken fits of rage. She didn't heed their well-advised warnings and she's paid for it ever since.

She sneaks into Beth's mud room off the back of her house. It's right where I left it. She scoops up the thin metal object then steps into the hall. You're going to meet your maker real soon, Steve. She smiles as she takes her place.

The house seems eerily quiet tonight. An unsettled tension lurking in the air, like it sensed a tragedy is about to occur. Shivering, she runs through the plan one last time.

 Their screen door slams shut. A few minutes later, she hears Steve stumble towards her. I'm going to enjoy this, Steve, more than you possibly know. All the bullshit you put Beth through. All of her bruises, broken bones and those two innocent babies you made her miscarry; Beth hasn't been the same since.

She recalls all the nights she comforted Beth while he was out doing God knows what with whom. Maybe I should torture you first, give you a taste of your own medicine. God knows you deserve it after everything you've done. She comes up with ways to make him suffer as he gets closer.

She raises the weapon above her head and waits. She feels her heart pound in her chest; his footsteps get louder. She tightens her sweaty grip as she nervously shifts her stance. Her head begins to swoon; his feet clomp across the tile floor. Just a few more steps, you low life piece of crap. She takes a deep breath. She starts to swing when she hears a familiar voice in the other room. Not wanting a witness, she reluctantly lowers her weapon. Don't worry, you worthless piece of shit, I'll come back and take care of you real soon, she thinks. She slips through the back door.