Today was Cynthia Culbertson’s birthday. 

Cynthia’s life had been a troubled one. She married Dwight at a young age. He was a smooth talker in his younger years, knowing exactly how to wine and dine the women. Later, after having a child, her life was torn between her daughter and her alcoholic husband. In the end, the alcohol destroyed them both, leaving their daughter lost, afraid, and on the run.

Beth entered the cemetery. She took extra precautions in case someone was watching. She was learning that being on the run wasn’t easy. Not seeing another person or a car anywhere, she walked hastily to her mother’s gravestone. 

"She knelt and with tears forming in her eyes, ran her fingers over her Mom's engraved name. As she attempted to speak, the rush of tears overflowed and she fell against the headstone, sobbing.

“Happy Birthday, Mom.” 

She placed a wilted white rose at the foot of the stone.  “Sorry, it’s wilted. I couldn’t buy you one, so I picked it from the trash can.” She sniffed and wiped her face with her hand. “I need you so much. Dad’s drinking is much worse. He’s acting like a lunatic. There’s a warrant for my arrest. They want to put me in jail for something I didn’t do.” 

In vain, she tried to stifle her tears. “Mom, he put his filthy paws on me. I tried to reason with him, but he beat me with his belt. I didn’t know what to do so I ran away.

“I know you’re mad at Dad. I am, too! I was going to go back, but then something else happened.” Beth paused, struggling to catch her breath. 

Visions of the rape flashed through her mind. Her body shook with fear. She didn’t know if she could even voice the following words. “Mom, I feel stupid. You taught me to protect myself, but I couldn’t. I tried, but I failed.” She allowed her tears to flow before she found the strength to continue, “A stranger raped me. It was disgusting. I was never so afraid in my whole life; not even Dad’s beatings compared.” Her body shuddered. Her voice sounded more like a moan, “ I don’t know what to do. Even Rachel turned her back on me.  I’m lost without her.”

“I’m right here, Beth.” 

Beth screamed at the sound of another voice. Her body lurched, and she jumped to her feet, ready to run.

Standing three feet away was her best friend, with sobs racking her body. The two girls ran to each other and tightly embraced, holding on as if their lives depended on it. Finally, they separated but remained holding hands.

“Oh, Beth, can you forgive me? I’m so sorry for not being there for you when you needed me.”

“You’re my best friend, Rach. Of course, I forgive you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I’ve been worried sick.” She paused, wondering how Beth would react to her next sentence. “Ethan and I saw Bert. She believes you’re innocent, Beth. You should talk to her.”

“She’s got a job to do, Rach. She’d have to turn me in. I don’t want to go to jail.” She looked at her mother’s grave and then back at Rachel. “How’d you find me, anyhow?” 

“Silly. I am your best friend, and I happen to know it’s your mom’s birthday. I knew you would come, so I called in sick to school and waited.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So, what are you going to do? You can’t stay living out here by yourself. Please, go see Bert or let me have her meet you somewhere.”

“Maybe, you’re right. Mom wouldn’t like me on the streets.” Beth took a long breath and exhaled. “I guess I should go see Dad first.”

“No, no, no. Absolutely not. Stay away from that lunatic. Your dad’s told so many lies.”

“But he knows I know the truth.” Beth bit her lip and stared off across the cemetery. “Maybe if he sees me, he’ll drop the nonsense, and everything will be okay.”

“Please, don’t do anything stupid, Beth.”

“Rach, he’s my dad. The alcohol made him go crazy. I should give him a chance to make amends, shouldn’t I?”  

“Well, maybe. But take Bert or Ethan with you. They can protect you.”

“Dad would get defensive. His temper would flare, and things would get worse than they are, if that’s at all possible.”

“Beth, listen to yourself. You’re making excuses for the man. What he did to you is wrong.”

“He was drunk. I’ll go and talk to him. If he’s drunk, I’ll leave. Simple as that. It’ll be okay, Rach.”

“Promise me you’ll think on it.” Rachel checked her watch. “School’s out. Mom will be looking for me. Meet me back here tomorrow after school, and we’ll talk some more, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll meet you here tomorrow.” Beth smiled, “I’m glad you’re my best friend again, Rach.”

“Me, too.” She hugged Beth and then started across the cemetery, stopping once to wave goodbye.

**********

“Hey, Hank, it’s Ric. I was wondering if you have a few minutes to chat.”

“For you, anything.” Hank laughed. “What’s up?”

“Did you hear about the hijacking out on 251?”

“Just what the news had to offer, and I never know how much of that I can trust.”

“A Rotello truck, carrying a load of Oxycontin, was hijacked. Actually, something really messed up happened out there. The driver of the truck and two suspects were found dead. A third suspect left in the car loaded with Oxycontin. He crashed three miles down the road and is unconscious at Mercy. His chances of survival aren’t too good.”

“Any idea of what went wrong? Did the hijacking turn into three murders and a poor effort at a getaway?”

"Well, the kid in the coma has a clean sheet, not even a parking ticket. He was driving a stolen vehicle. His blood-alcohol level was well over the limit to be walking, let alone driving. It’s possible, but for some reason, my gut tells me otherwise. This is the third hijacking in six months. It’s got to be an inside job.”

“What’s Rotello got to say?”

“He’s in complete denial. Understandable since it is his bread and butter.” Ric cleared his throat. “I met his son, Peter, today while I was talking to Nate. A real jumpy guy.”

“Sounds like you could be on the right track, Ric.”

“Remember telling me about your last case and that guy who was undercover. Are you still in touch with him?”

“Garth? Sure, I am.” Hank laughed. “Garth and Katherine have Emmy and I over for dinner quite often. Their veranda at night is like sitting peacefully, staring at heaven.”

“Do you think you could drag him over here? Maybe figure out if the Rotello kid is involved or if it’s someone else. Fresh eyes never hurt.”

“I’ll give him a call and run it by him. Can’t promise anything because I don’t know if he’s in the middle of something or not.”

“Thanks, Hank. Let me know, okay?” Ric paused for a moment then asked, “Talked to Bert lately?”

“No, why?" Hank thought the question was weird since Ric was Bert's friend as well.

"I was just wondering if she’d gotten any further on finding the Culbertson kid.”

“You’re not going to tell me you believe that scumbag, are you?"

“No, I wasn’t. I just don’t think Bert will share any information if she finds the girl. She doesn’t have a high view of the Chief and his way of thinking.”

“I’ll touch base with her and let you know. In the meantime, I’ll give Garth a call.”

“Thanks, Hank.” Ric ended the call. 

I’m sticking my neck out on this one, pal. Sure hope your friend can help us. If it goes wrong... well, the Chief isn’t going to be happy.

**********

It was five in the afternoon, and Dwight had polished off a fifth of gin. He’d replenished his supply at Clancey’s, the neighborhood liquor store. As he exited the store, he bumped into another customer who was entering. 

“Watch where you’re going?” Dwight snarled. “You almost made me drop my crap.”

Preoccupied with thoughts of the hijacking, Peter muttered, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to step around Dwight.

Recognizing his current arch-enemy, Dwight gave him a shove, causing Peter to stumble back onto the sidewalk. “Hey, scumbag, I know you. You're the lowlife trying to hustle my woman.”

“Are you nuts, man? I don’t know you or your woman, I assure you.” Peter gave his clothing a once over, making sure the lowlife hadn't left any slime on him.

“Oh yeah, well, I heard her tell you goodnight last night.” Dwight stepped out of the doorway, so he was closer to Peter. “I’m not stupid. No woman of mine is going to be cozying up with the likes of you.” He shoved Peter again.

The security guard stepped out of Clancy’s. “Everything okay, Mr. Rotello?”

“Yeah, Frankie, the guy’s in here buying liquor, and he’s already three sheets to the wind. He’s harmless.”

Frankie allowed Peter to pass by into the store, and then he approached Dwight. “Count yourself lucky, man. Mr. Rotello could have your butt hauled off for assault right now. Go home and sleep it off, okay?”

“He’s sleeping with my woman. I have the right to protect my property.”

“Listen, man, go home, or I’ll arrest you for being drunk and disorderly in public.”

“Oh, yeah? Because he’s some rich guy?”

"Nope, because it’s my job to protect Clancy’s property. You get me?”

Losing interest, Dwight turned and walked away.