Wiping the sweat from her brow, Kathy glanced at the alarm clock. 3:45 AM. Pushing away the haunting images, she swung her feet to the floor, pulled back her long black hair, and turned on the coffee.

***

"When are you going to get your own office?" Morwenna said, entering the bookstore around seven.

"Why do I need an office when I can work here for free?" Kathy winked.

"I thought I locked the door?"

"You did," Kathy handed the pale-skinned woman a steaming cup of Joe, "I picked the lock."

"Right," Morwenna smiled.

"I'm going to an art gallery exhibit tonight; you want to come?"

"Is there going to be wine?"

"Yes."

"I'm in."

Morwenna attended to her duties as Kathy combed through files in the back. The homey interior of the bookstore felt inviting, and so did the free internet. Closing her eyes, Kathy rolled her neck.

"You missed Emily's birthday," a stern, deep voice forced her body straight.

"Shit," Kathy gasped for any other word opening her eyes.

"When are you going to give this up?" the man's fierce green eyes burned into her own.

"When I find him," she began collecting her equipment.

"The man's a ghost, Kathy," he grabbed her arm. "Don't you see what this is doing to you? Dad wouldn't want this."

"You weren't there, Steven," Kathy yelled, yanking her arm away. "I was. I relive it every night and every time I look in the mirror."

She pulled back the right shoulder of her t-shirt, revealing a scar reaching from the bottom of her neck to the top of her chest.

"I know," Steven rubbed his hand over his scalp, "I just hate to see you like this."

"Like what?" Kathy snapped.

"I don't know," he paused, "lost, obsessed, unemployed."

"Unemployed? I own my own business!"

"You track down hoodlums and drug addicts, half the time at your own expense, and for who?"

"For the victims they hurt."

"That's what the police are for."

"Well, they don't always do their job now, do they?" They came face to face. Taking a deep breath, Kathy released her fists. "I help people find closure."

"Kat," Steven sighed.

"I have somewhere to be." Kathy grabbed her bag and stormed away.

***

Tugging at the waste of her red gown Kathy moved about the gallery inspecting the art while Morwenna refilled their glasses. There was more of a crowd than she bargained for. Stopping in front of a canvas, Kathy glared at the painting.

"Do you not like my work?" a raspy voice broke her gaze.

"Your work?" Kathy said. "You're Bob Blackman?"

"Indeed I am."

Turning, Kathy saw a tall, slightly overweight, older man. Extending her hand to meet his, her eyes searched his face, landing on three small scars on his left cheek just below and around his ear.

"Kathy," Morwenna snapped her fingers.

"What?" Kathy composed herself, taking the wine offered to her by Morwenna.

"I'm sorry you don't like this piece," Blackman brushed off his navy blue suit, "but I have others you might enjoy. Evening." The artist tipped his head and merged into the crowd.

Kathy stood frozen in place for a moment before coming to.

"Where'd he go?" She frantically searched the room. "Where'd he go?"

"Kathy, are you okay?" Morwenna asked.

"That was him, Mor," Kathy shoved her glass in Morwenna's hand, "that was him?"

"That was who?"

Pushing past the crowd, Kathy tore through the building to find him, only to find he'd vanished.

***

"Are you insane?" Steven burst through his sister's apartment door.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Kathy gathered together files from her kitchen table.

"Morwenna called me."

"Oh, did she?"

"It's not him, Kathy," Steve's voice was calm and steady.

"It was him."

"No. You only think that because we fought earlier today."

"What!" Kathy gasped, "Are you kidding me?"

Putting down her papers, she stepped toward her brother.

"I went to that gallery tonight because I thought I found him. This was no accident, brother," Kathy clasped her shaking hands together as a tear ran down her cheek. "I've been searching for that man since I was ten years old. I've had to do some dark and dirty things, but they paid off because tonight I finally found him." Kathy lowered her hands. "And you said being a private dick would lead me nowhere."

"It's left you almost penniless, not to mention half insane."

"Are you kidding? I'm an entrepreneur," Kathy taunted, "for I've sunk everything I have into this, and it's time I finally make a deal with the big score."

"Kat," Steven sighed.

"Can't you see I need this, Steven?"

"You don't need this to move on. You just have to let go."

"You're wrong," Kathy wiped away falling tears, "I can't mend what's broken until it's over."

"Kat, let's sit down and talk about this."

"You don't want to talk about this, Steven," Kathy loaded the last of the files in her bag, throwing it over her shoulder, "you want to tell me once again what you think I should feel." She pushed past him.

"Where are you going?"

"To give a little payback to the man who tried to rape me and killed our father. I'd ask you if you want to come, but I know better," she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

***

Tapping her nails off the steering wheel, Kathy flipped through the file in her lap. It was the scar that led her to him. A descriptive mark she'd described to the police when she was a child, but it led them nowhere but dead end after dead end.

"Bob Gregory Blackman," Kathy whispered, tipping her sunglasses as she watched him carry in groceries. "You're mine, you bastard."

The yellow house looked dark and neglected under the evening stars. The seasoned gumshoe found a loose window frame and slipped in the basement undetected. Above her, she could hear the mumbling of the television followed by a deep raspy cough.

Kathy worked her way up the unkept wooden stars. Putting her ear to the door, she listened for movement before slowly opening it and sliding through. Back against the wall, she hid in the shadows, watching the offender from the hall. Still and silent, the vexed woman waited. As Blackman stood and shuffled down the hall to the bathroom, Kathy hid out of sight, positioning herself for his return. As the monster passed, she jumped out, clubbing him from behind.

"Wake up," Kathy waved smelling salt under her captive's nose.

"What the hell is going on?" Bob tried to move.

"You're bound; it's not worth struggling," Kathy said.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Kathy pulled out newspaper clippings and placed them in front of Blackman on the kitchen table. Leaning forward, he examined the articles.

"I didn't think you knew who I was at the gallery," Blackman laughed. "You've come to get your revenge then, have you?"

"I've come to kill you."

"You couldn't stop me then, my sweet little Kathy, and you can't stop me now."

Taking a steak knife from a drawer, Kathy plunged it into Blackman's thigh as he growled in discomfort.

"You tried to rape me," she took a heavy breath, "and when my father found me and tried to stop you, you killed him." Kathy grabbed another knife piercing it into the opposite thigh. "You held a knife to my throat," she put a blade to his, "and threatened to slice his little girl right in front of him, and then you gave me this," she pulled back her shirt.

Blackman's eyes sparkled at the sight of his art.

"It seems I should have finished the job, and then I wouldn't be tied up here now, would I?"

"What kind of animal are you?"

"The resourceful kind," he said.

Blackman lunged forward, tackling Kathy to the ground. Placing his sizeable meaty hand around her neck, she gasped. With an immense force, her body flew across the room. Looking up from the floor, Kathy watched as the magician pulled his left thumb out and snapped it back into place.

"Handy trick," he laughed, pulling the knives from his legs.

"YOU BASTARD!" Kathy roared.

The unstable woman jumped to her feet with the skill and force of a linebacker sprinting across the room. Blackman heaved as his body flipped in the air before landing hard on the linoleum. The two opponents scratched and tore at each other, each giving as good as they got. Wounded and bloody, Kathy climbed over the broken walls and paintings back to her bag in the kitchen. Pulling out a gun, she fired as Blackman rounded the corner. Dodging the bullets, the skilled criminal dove into the hall.

"Maybe I should visit that little niece of yours," he shouted as Kathy rose to her feet. "What's her name, Emily?"

Getting to her feet, Kathy ran after him out the front door only to find he'd vanished again."

***

"Steven," Kathy pounded on her brother's front door. "Steven, wake up!"

Flipping on the porch light, Steven peered through the peephole then unlocked the door.

"Kat, what the..."

Kathy pushed past him, "Where are Emily and Jane?"

"In bed, you lunatic, it's one in the morning. Are you okay?"

"Go get them and pack a bag."

"Pack a bag?" Steven's forehead wrinkled, "Kat, what's going on? Why are you covered in blood?"

"It's not all mine."

"What?"

"It's him," she laughed hysterically. "I should have just killed him, but I wanted him to know why he was dying."

"Wait? What?" Steven stuttered, "you tried to kill someone. I know you talked...But I didn't think..."

"I talked too much," Kathy took heavy breaths, "he dislocated his thumb," she continued laughing, "pulled his hand right out. I didn't bank on that."

"Okay, I think we need to go to the police."

"We don't have time," her small hand grabbed Steven's forearm. "He knew who I was. He knows who we are. It's only a matter of time before he gets here."

"Kat," Steven stepped back, "you're scaring me."

"Honey," Steven's wife started down the stairs. "Is everything okay?"

"Jane, honey, get dressed and go start the car. We need to leave. I'll get Emily."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jane, just do it," Steven said sternly.

"Okay."

Steven rushed around collecting their belongings while Kathy watched out the window. Having thrown on her mud boots and an old pair of pants, Jane headed to the driveway.

Kathy felt weightless as her body was propelled through the air. Ears ringing, she shook her head, trying to focus her eyes--the car, Steven's car, in flames.

"JANE!" the devastated husband ran toward the fire.

"STEVEN, NO!" Kathy tackled her brother. "Emily," she looked him in the eyes.

"Oh, god!" He scrambled to his feet, running inside.

Still woozy from the blast, Kathy pushed herself up.

"You little bitch," Blackman came out of the smoke.

Flushed with anger, Blackman drove his bloody leg into the helpless woman knocking her back to the ground.

"You think you can come after me?" he kicked her again. "I didn't think you'd find me." Kathy looked puzzled. "That's right; I knew you were looking for me."

"And now you're mine."

Pulling together all her strength, the determined woman plowed forward. The pair wrestled, locked in a defensive embrace. Opposite forces clashed, creating a sudden and unexpected squall. Kathy buried her fists into the monster's face as images of her dying father flashed through her mind. Blackman swept Kathy's feet from under her gaining the advantage. A few well-placed punches and the female fighter laid lost in confusion.

"Aunt Kathy," she heard her niece cry out.

She opened her swollen eyes to see her niece being forced into a car by the monster that destroyed her life.

"No," she reached out. "Steven," she crawled to her bloody brother taking his hand in hers, "I'm so sorry."

"Emily," Steven's voice was weak.

"I won't let you down," she cried.

Slamming her car into gear, Kathy peeled out. Blackman's car faded in and out of the spotlights provided by the street lamps. Racing down the road, Kathy followed every left and right he took, leading them to the freeway. There on the straight, smooth asphalt, the veteran driver closed in on her prey.

Emily was huddled up to the passenger window pounding on the glass, screaming for help. Kathy veered a hard right as a bullet detached her side mirror from her Mazda RX7.

Cars blared their horns as they wove in and out of traffic. Pushing down the gas, Kathy sped forward, firing at Blackman's Ford Crown Victorian. Sirens blared in the background. Kathy looked in her review to find local law enforcement closing in as she closed the gap between them. Meeting her enemy's eyes, Blackman raised his gun and fired. The passenger side window shattered along the highway. Kathy pulled back as a few more bullets produced holes in her car's windshield and body.

Seeing him toss his empty gun away, Kathy pulled up alongside the murderer's car, locking eyes with her niece. She signaled for her to put on her seatbelt. Having understood the gesture, the small trembling child turned forward and buckled in.

Kathy fell back a few inches. Taking a hard breath, she jerked her wheel, slamming her front end into the rear of the beast's vehicle. Blackman's car veered up on two wheels, hitting the side rail and overturning itself to Kathy's horror.

Slamming on her brakes, she raced to the wreckage.

"Emily," she pulled her niece from the debris, shaking her gently. Emily moaned in response, "oh, thank God. Come on, honey," Kathy helped her up. "Can you run?"

"Y-yes," Emily said.

"Run that way," Kathy pointed, "toward the police."

Circling the car, Kathy found the demon of her nightmares stuck in an attempt to climb out his broken window. Snake-like he slithered on the ground gasping for air.

"How many others did you hurt?" Kathy walked pointed her gun at him. "How many others have nightmares of your face when they close their eyes?" a tear rolled down her face.

Blackman laughed, blood running out the corner of his mouth. "All of them, I hope."

"Well, no more," she pulled the trigger.

***

"That's the last of it, Aunt Kathy," Emily said, hauling in boxes.

"I like it," Morwenna said, "And it's about time."

"It's not much," Kathy said, "but it's a start."

"Good news," Steven hobbled in, "as of today, the case is officially closed."

Letting out an easy breath, Kathy propped her feet on the desk and smiled.

"Excuse me?" an elderly woman entered, "is one of you P.I. Barker?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kathy motioned her family to hit the bricks. "What can I do for you today?"

"I hear you find people," she said, "bad people."

"I sure do."